


Kat & Mouse

by Themis_76



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Happy Ending, History, Interpol - Freeform, M/M, Mutual Pining, Treasure Hunting, art thief victor, genius Yuuri, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-09-18 09:31:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 96,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16992462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Themis_76/pseuds/Themis_76
Summary: Victor has an affinity for the finer things in life - beautiful things, beautiful places and the finest of all food and wines. After a successful career with a certain criminal organization, he bargains his way into retirement… a retirement he finds he can’t stick to. He collects fine art, anything golden and historically significant artifacts. He revels in luxury and the thrill of the hunt… but although his home was full of beautiful things, his heart was empty until he crossed paths with a certain Interpol officer that is determined to catch him. And so the chase begins…Updates on Fridays





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This work is a mere fanfiction for "Yuri!!! On Ice". I claim no rights over the characters. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The author of this fanfiction is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I have taken some liberty with history. Though based on historic events and people, references to events, historic items and people, both alive and dead, should in no way be construed as truthful.
> 
> See chapter 2 notes for the inspiration for this one.

Over the last years, Yuuri had become a fixation for Victor. Some would call it an obsession, but to Victor he was a goal, a path forward, a light he might reach at the end of the dark lonely tunnel that had become his life.

 

They met three years ago during Victor’s last job while on Yakov’s regular payroll. It had been so brief - maybe two minutes, probably less - but that brief flash of time changed the direction of Victor’s life forever.

 

And for that he would always be grateful.

 

Like Medusa, Yuuri ensnared Victor with a single look, leaving him unable to move for a brief second, as if he’d been turned to stone. Victor had met the other man’s gaze and found himself trapped by determined, fierce, passionate brown eyes. It was at that exact moment he knew that he couldn’t continue on the path he had found himself on so many years ago. A path he had for the most part chosen, it was true, but not one on which he could continue. Not after seeing the reflection of his own soul in those beautiful, beautiful eyes.

 

In those eyes he also saw a challenge, a gauntlet that had been thrown down, but above all, there was judgement; the message being clear that Victor had been found lacking. And despite everything - who he was, what he had accomplished - something in him became determined to look into those eyes one day and find understanding, acceptance, and perhaps if he was really lucky, love.

 

He had begun making plans to extricate himself from Yakov’s network that very night, once he was safely back in his cheap, anonymous hotel room.

 

Coming back to the present, Victor paused in his reminiscing to pick up the glass of wine beside him, taking a small sip and holding in his mouth, swishing it around to better appreciate the innate flavours. It was a modern style Chateauneuf du pape, a bottle he had picked up years ago while touring France after a successful job. He swallowed slowly, appreciating the flavours in the wine brought forward from aging in a French oak cask, and let himself sink back against the deep blue velvet brocade of his favourite armchair. The afternoon light fell softly across him, and the summer breeze through the window brought with it the ever-present hum of the city. Completely relaxed, he let himself succumb once again to the urge to immerse himself in the memory of an event that had left him a changed man.

 

The memory of the first time he met Yuuri Katsuki. The one who was the first to see him, and the first to _almost_ catch him...

 

**Three years ago, Boston, MA**

 

> Victor glances one last time at the instructions that came through from Yakov. ‘Bring back Russia’s treasure. Bring back Russia’s pride.’ The object he was referring to was a largely unknown Faberge Egg made for a highly regarded associate of Tsar Nicholas who had traveled to America to secure the loan to Russia that America had agreed to. However, the ship carrying the envoy and the treasure had sunk following a crash with another ship, permanently losing the gold destined for Russia. Or so it was claimed. Luckily, the ship had sunk slowly enough for the possessions of the more important passengers to be salvaged. Once the chaos had settled, it was determined that the Russian envoy was one of the six people who had died in the impact. However, the Russian’s possessions had been secured. The Americans, of course, never admitted to the fact.
> 
>  
> 
> But Mother Russia knew. The envoy’s possessions had been salvaged - and by the Captain, personally.
> 
>  
> 
> The Americans were coy, but Russia knew what had been stolen from them. And silently, they had vowed to get it back. It had taken over 100 years, but they would take back the treasure that was theirs.
> 
>  
> 
> Which was how Victor found himself in the position he was now in… hanging from attic rafters by a harness while he waits for Chris to hack into the security system. He’s dressed in black, covered head to toe, the only thing exposed are his eyes. The suit is designed to be skintight, offering no loose fabric to catch on anything, and sealed at the ankles and wrists so no skin was exposed.
> 
>  
> 
> He finally hears the all clear from Chris in his comm and disengages from the harness that held him above the laser sensors that lined the attic floor. Moving swiftly and lightly, he found his way to the panel that served as the attic entrance and made his way down to the floor below.
> 
>  
> 
> He had studied the blueprints of the mansion extensively (seriously, did Americans not understand the consequences of having blueprints be public documents?) and once again marveled at how lax the Americans appeared to be about security. They relied on guns, but guns were less important than stealth and good information in Victor’s opinion. Brute force would never overcome true wit and skill when one was properly informed - as he’d proven time and time again.
> 
>  
> 
> Focussing on his task, he makes his way through the de la Iglesia mansion. He has to be especially careful now. The de la Iglesias were a well known political family, the elder currently a prominent member of the senate. Looking around, he notes the opulence of the estate and reflects on the fact that the riches of this family were built upon the promise to Russia that remained unfilled. The gold that was lost was supposed to fund reforms, but instead the lack of government funds lead to unrest. Not that he regrets the fall of the Tsars, but it does make him pause and think… what if…
> 
>  
> 
> Shaking the melancholy thoughts from his head he once again focusses, zeroing in on where the Egg was reportedly kept. Making his way down corridor after corridor and stairs meant for servants that were hidden from the main spaces, he spies his final destination - the private study of the previous head of the family, recently deceased.
> 
>  
> 
> There was no reason for anyone to be here; the funeral was just yesterday, so not soon enough for anyone to feel the need to go through any personal papers. Victor had chosen his timing _just_ so to make sure that the family was at their most vulnerable and least guarded. After all, this was not an American political matter, and the current family likely had no idea the offence that their ancestor had committed against Russia.
> 
>  
> 
> He enters the study and quickly locates the Egg, scoffing at the lack of security and casual display of one of Russia’s most prized treasures. Carefully, he secures the Egg in a custom made case which he slings across his back and lets Chris know it’s time to start extraction.
> 
>  
> 
> He exits the room, Chris providing directions once again, watching out for any wandering servants. He is almost at the corridor that leads to the attic entrance through which he had entered when he hears Chris inhale sharply. He stills immediately, ready to face whatever it is that Chris had spotted. But then there is static in his ears as his connection is cut off.
> 
>  
> 
> Frowning, he doesn’t waste time trying to determine whether Chris himself has been compromised or just the connection. Extracting his favoured throwing knives from where they were strapped to his ankles, he moves stealthily to the corner he had been approaching, counting his breaths, in and out, and timing them with his steps. Heart hammering in anticipation, he uses the flat of one of his knives as a mirror to peer around the corner.
> 
>  
> 
> It appears to be clear, but Victor is no fool. There are doors along that corridor, and it’s likely that behind one of them someone is waiting to take him down. He takes a few more soft, quiet breaths, contemplating the situation. Russia had never tried to recover the Egg before; nor had Russia tried to recover the gold for the loan, the Tsar likely too embarrassed in the first place that he’d had to ask the Americans for help.
> 
>  
> 
> So how did someone know they were there? Who could it be? It was obviously someone more sophisticated than the gun happy guards the senator guarded himself with. They must have been hacked somehow. But who would hack the Bratva? They weren’t government. They weren’t a political target. Maybe the more important question was who _could_ hack them.
> 
>  
> 
> It doesn’t matter, Victor decides. He has the Egg, and it’s up to him to ensure he completes his task. With that in mind, he takes one last silent breath and makes his way around the corner towards the attic.
> 
>  
> 
> Moving quickly, feet so light they barely seemed to touch the ground, Victor speeds towards the attic door, keeping his attention fixed on the doors along the corridor.
> 
>  
> 
> He is ten feet into the corridor when suddenly a figure appears at the other end, brandishing a gun.
> 
>  
> 
> “Stop right there, Nikiforov! Hands where I can see them.” The speaker is dark haired, with glasses, though Victor can’t make out any more details.
> 
>  
> 
> At the same time Victor hears footsteps advancing rapidly from behind. He hesitates, assessing the options, as the figure in front of him approaches at a rapid pace, seemingly throwing caution to the wind in favour of speed. He can make out more detail now; the figure is a man, slightly shorter than himself, with a lean, lithe frame. His raven hair is swept back from his face, and dark eyes watch him intently.
> 
>  
> 
> He decides to take his chance on the man in front of him, discarding his knives and diving quickly off to the side into a roll, shielding himself with his prize. He’s betting that the operative won’t risk damaging the Egg.
> 
>  
> 
> Sure enough, no shots are fired and Victor finds himself upright once more and brushing by the man as he prepares to leap for the attic entrance. Feeling a sharp pain in his knee, he finds himself on the floor, the operative having casually taken him out as he passed.
> 
>  
> 
> Turning, he makes eye contact with the operative, who is watching him with a smirk.
> 
>  
> 
> “I expected you to be better than this, Nikiforov, for all that they call you a legend. Sloppy. Not only did you fail to keep your chatter quiet, you let yourself be cornered.”
> 
>  
> 
> Victor blinks up at the man’s chocolate eyes, and suddenly understands the reference to eyes being a window to the soul. The soul that looks back at him is beneficent, with a purity of purpose that Victor has never seen. But yet there is a fierceness, a determination in those eyes… and judgement, as if the man was an avenging angel about to cast judgement on Victor’s soul itself. And from the look in his eye, it is clear that the man found Victor wanting.
> 
>  
> 
> Forcing those thoughts to the back of his mind, Victor takes advantage of the operative’s position, and launches himself off the floor and, using the wall to gain some height, throws himself back at the operative, landing on the shoulder of the man’s dominant hand and jumping towards the attic panel. He punches up, dislodging the panel and catches the edge of the entrance easily. Hauling himself up, he once again makes eye contact with the stunned operative and gives him his trademark wink.
> 
>  
> 
> “I’ll see you around,” he calls as he makes his escape by attaching the carabiner on his harness to the line outside the window that was set to automatically retract when weight was put on it. As he moves towards the roof he dimly hears the sound of bright laughter from inside the room he had just vacated.

 

 

A distinctive ringtone interrupted his daydreaming, and he picked up quickly, having been waiting for the call.

 

“Chris! It’s about time. I was starting to wonder if you’d lost your edge.” Victor laughed as an irate squawk blasted his ear drum. “You know we have a limited window, we need to go shopping immediately.”

 

Victor knew that he was saying too much… and he knew who would be listening - Phichit Chulanont, one of Interpol’s best hackers, and Yuuri’s partner. But really, what was the point of doing this heist if not to draw Yuuri out and meet him again? He knew he was being foolish, possibly downright stupid. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

 

“V!” Chris’s exasperation came through clearly. “Not now. I’ll be over in about an hour. We can talk details then.” Victor heard Chris sigh over the phone. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. But remember, V, even legends can be toppled…”

 

Victor held in his own sigh, not wanting Chris to know how weary, how _over_ he was with this business. He was so tired of being ‘the legend’. This was not the time to discuss it though, so he just hummed back neutrally then replied in a quiet voice, “I know Chris, I’ll see you in an hour.” He disconnected the call, head hanging down for a moment while he felt the weight of everything crash down on him yet again.

 

He didn’t want this life. It was so empty, and had been for a long time. Since that first fateful meeting with Yuuri, he’d managed to extricate himself from Yakov’s group… for the most part, anyway. He winced, remembering the delicate dance he’d had to do to gain what independence he had now. He was officially ‘retired’ and no longer on the official payroll, which made his other endeavours all the more risky.

 

Especially this one.

 

But he had to take this one. It was too significant to pass up, the consequences dire if the piece in question were to fall into the wrong hands. And he couldn’t let that happen, not when he had the ability to prevent it.

 

No, not after looking into the eyes of an angel.

 

He’d spent the last years since Boston attempting to pay back everything he had stolen, in repentance of the lives he had likely ruined. Though he could never repay them directly, he had his own unlikely way of making amends. He huffed, nearly a chuckle, and rolled his eyes, thinking of Chris making fun of his ‘grand romantic gesture’ and calling him Robin Hood.

 

Robin Hood he was not; however, his goal these days was to repay some of the karma he had spent so freely in his younger days. Except for the occasional job he was forced to do for Yakov as a condition of his retirement, nowadays when he took on a heist it was only a previously stolen treasure or artwork. And he made sure that the proceeds made their way to some charity or another. He had first started that practice with the payment he received for the heist in which he met Yuuri. Of course, he always made sure his own accounts were in good standing before his donation. He wasn’t _that_ altruistic, and he would freely admit that he enjoyed the finer things in life. He may have chosen to take a different direction professionally, but that change didn’t extend to the standard of living to which he’d become accustomed.

 

But Chris was right, this one was risky. He’d chosen it for a number of reasons, but like all the heists he did these days, he chose it in part knowing that Yuuri would be there. He wasn’t so worried about failing, or getting caught. What he was worried about is he knew Yakov would be sending operatives, and he had to make sure both that he beat them to it and that they never connected him to the theft.

 

He couldn’t be seen as competition, couldn’t let it be known that it was him. So far as Yakov knew, the only heists Victor pulled off these days were solely for Yakov’s benefit. After all, that was the deal.

 

Victor spent the time waiting for Chris tidying up the townhouse he kept in the city, and pacing. After he had left Russia he had chosen to move to Geneva, where his best friend was located. It had seemed the most logical choice, not just because Chris was there, but because it was a gateway to the rest of Europe, and a Swiss citizenship protected him from the prejudice that airport security seemed to always have against single young Russian men trying to travel alone. Honestly, it was so irritating - he may not be an upstanding law abiding citizen, but not all Russians were spies. The added benefit was Switzerland had good relations with Russia, meaning he could easily go back and meet with his old colleagues as necessary.

 

And then of course there were the banking laws. Victor smirked. He had taken advantage of those laws to smuggle certain funds out of Russia. Now, of course, he had his bank accounts elsewhere, but the years that Switzerland had maintained it’s banking secrecy laws had allowed him to line up his accounts. Even Yakov wouldn’t be able to trace his bank accounts now. It provided extra security against Yakov finding out he wasn’t exactly sticking to their deal.

 

Chris arrived on time as usual, and began with a stern lecture - not that Victor had expected anything less.

 

“Victor!” he exclaimed once they sat down in the open living room of Victor’s rather extravagant townhouse. “What the hell? I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen Yuuri, but seriously, that was careless!!! There were other ways we could have clued him in, ways that would not risk certain other organizations finding out...”

 

Victor frowned and tried to look contrite, though mostly failing. “I know, I’m sorry Chris, I’ll be more careful. Besides! It’s not _so_ off our public personas to have the need of an emergency shopping trip.”

 

“No Victor, I don’t think you do know. Using the word ‘shopping’ is not going to fool anyone, especially not when this job is being so widely advertised. You may be playing a cute little game of cat and mouse with your little crush, but if Yakov gets wind of this we are ALL doomed. And not to a nice clean death either. At least if Yuuri gets a hold of us it’s just a mundane American prison. But I for one hope to never meet Otabek personally!”

 

Otabek was Yakov’s enforcer, one of the few people that Victor had never met, and hopefully it would stay that way.

 

“Aside from that, Victor, think of Yurio. After everything you’ve done… don’t throw it away now.”

 

That was a low blow. Despite everything he himself had gone through, he had managed to keep his brother safe and untainted from his activities. But Chris was right, and Victor sighed, thoroughly chastised. “I’m sorry Chris, you’re right,” he replied, this time sincere. “Thank you for reminding me.”

 

Indeed, Chris was right. Victor was being selfish. It wasn’t just himself that would suffer if they got caught by Yakov, it was Chris and his brother as well. Yakov still didn’t know that Chris was involved with Victor’s ‘profession’. Chris maintained a legitimate job in marketing at an IT company, and as the heir to a very old and distinguished family, he was independently wealthy. Victor had been very careful about keeping certain of his most valued resources secret from Yakov, and though a few had been discovered and co-opted to work for Yakov, his most trusted core group remained secret. Everyone assumed that he and Chris were simply childhood friends; their fathers having done business (of the legitimate kind) in the past. And these days people assumed that Victor maintained their friendship to take advantage of Chris’s largesse once he ceased his official work for Yakov. It made a perfect cover, really, his former associates believing he was manipulating poor Chris for his money. No one suspected the truth - though everyone knew that Chris was a card-carrying Mensa member, no one knew that he put that intelligence to work as one of the world’s best hackers.

 

Chris did it for the thrill, of course. One of the dangers of being so intelligent was boredom that came with not exercising that intelligence, which had been a problem with any legitimate (i.e. legal) jobs. Between the seemingly insurmountable challenges and the adrenaline rush that came with his true vocation, he had found his passion. While Victor had never induced Chris into this life, he had certainly never discouraged him since he knew exactly how good Chris would be. And sure enough, he had proven to be if not the best, certainly in the company of the very best hackers. They were best friends as well as literal ‘partners in crime’.

 

Chris eyed him a moment, then seemingly satisfied that Victor was truly contrite, he reached over and patted Victor’s hand, which, unbeknownst to him until just then, was gripping the material of his pants in a death grip.

 

“Ok, Victor, as long as you understand exactly the situation you are getting us into.” Chris paused, collecting himself and bringing back his professional persona once more. “Now… as I alluded to over the phone, I am a genius! Not that we didn’t know that already, but as is befitting of the partner of a living legend, I have, believe it or not, discovered where the panel of the Just Judges is, and I’m positive no one else has. At least, no one we are competing with. It’s… more complicated than usual. And what makes it more complicated is that I am certain that the buyer you had in mind knows exactly where it is… and why.”

 

“Hmmmm???” Victor responded with a raised eyebrow, intrigued.

 

“Well, you know I’ve got a secure line into Interpol’s system… though I can only use it actively very, very occasionally. It’s a passive line.”

 

“Yes, of course. That’s been some of the best intel we’ve had. But if it’s missing, how did you get intel from Interpol?” Victor was truly curious now. One of the things that had made him so successful in his chosen profession was his high intelligence. He wasn’t just some goon, and he didn’t rely on instinct and experience alone. No, Victor understood history, art, politics, literature. In another world, had he been born to a different family, perhaps he would be a world famous scholar. This was one of the things that pulled him so much to Yuuri. He knew from their interactions over the years that Yuuri wasn’t just doing a job. No, he had a true appreciation for the items that Victor stole, both for their historic significant as well as how aesthetically pleasing they were. And Victor did too. When he stole a painting he knew it’s significance, both cultural and to the world of art - the brush strokes, the paint and the subject matter itself.

 

“So here’s the thing…” Chris had paused and still looked reluctant to speak. “It’s on Interpol’s list. They’ve known where it is since shortly after it was stolen.”

 

“WHAT???!!!” Victor was shocked, this was truly not an answer he was expecting. “Don’t stop there Chris, where is it and why???”

 

“It’s in Luxembourg… in… errr… a house belonging to the grand ducal family… to a former Grand Duchess actually.”

 

Victor felt his jaw drop open in surprise. This was most unexpected; however, he LOVED surprises. Especially when they involved history and politics. “Ok, so, go on… I can see from your expression you know the whole story.”

 

And indeed Chris was sitting there looking like the Cheshire Cat, his golden round spectacles glimmering in the light, highlighting the green of his eyes. His blond curls that framed a dark undercut did nothing to sway the image of a cat that had just been caught finishing the cream.

 

“Oh, you’ll loooove this,” Chris purred, now fully in his element of gossip. Chris loved collecting information, and the more secretive and scandalous the better. “So it turns out that the thief was the lover of a member of the Royal Family of Belgium… and that particular member actually cooperated with the Germans in WWI. Obviously that was something that the Royal Family did not want getting out, so she was sent to live with the Grand Duchess Marie-Adélaïde of Luxemburg who, if you recall, was also a German sympathizer. At least, allegedly.”

 

“WOW.” Victor sat back, the pieces of the puzzle falling in place. “When he died the thief left a letter saying that the panel was in a place where it could not be reached without attracting public attention. Everyone thought that it meant a public space or monument.” Victor paused, admiring the words that the thief had chosen, and on his deathbed no less. “But no, he meant public attention that was the scandal of a member of the Royal Family of Belgium inviting the Germans in, and essentially ensuring a successful occupation. And present day Luxembourg doesn’t want the painting discovered of course. Their knowledge of the scandal secures their influence over Belgium… and access to their ports. That’s some crazy political blackmail” Victor whistled… it was brilliant. “No wonder you’re certain the buyer knows where it is. I mean, I had picked that buyer because it would be going back to where it belongs and joining the rest of the altarpiece… but the second buyer… the desperation and the high price… it makes a lot of sense now. I see why you were so hesitant on the phone. We’ll have to tread extremely cautiously.”

 

As he and Chris began discussing the next steps, Victor found himself coming out of his usual lethargy. If anything could give him the slightest of sparks these days, it was a heist like this. There was nothing routine about it. The methods, the planning, yes, it was the same old routine. But the possible fallout, the danger… it set his blood on fire like nothing had in a long, long time.

 

A national treasure, stolen. And the thief and it’s recipient equally guilty of crimes against their countries if for different reasons. And the truth of the matter would have massive implications on the current political stage. Mix that with two sudden buyers willing to pay through the nose. If he sold to one, the treasure would be returned to its rightful place. If he sold to the other… well, it could lead to war. He couldn’t let anyone else beat him to it, especially no one from Yakov’s group, since they would benefit from the ensuing political unrest. This would be his biggest challenge to date.

 

Victor was in. The funds from this one, he thought, would profit certain veterans’ associations. It was only appropriate considering the people involved in the original crime. And oh, it was certain Yuuri would be assigned to this one… and this was the kind of file where Yuuri would shine. His knowledge, his passion… Victor would have to be very, very careful on this job. And it only excited him that much more.

 

After all, it wouldn’t be that long until he saw his angel again.


	2. Chapter 2 - Yuuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri investigates Victor’s latest crime and Victor wasn’t as careful as he should have been…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated the notes on the first chapter, but I’ll repeat here :) Updates will be every Friday (hopefully). This is really research heavy but I’m going to try and stick to that schedule. I will include links in the end notes to what inspired the thefts in case anyone is interested. Obviously, this is very “inspired by” and not intended to truthfully depict historic events or people living or dead.
> 
> Inspiration for the last chapter since I forgot to include it:
> 
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RMS_Republic_(1903)
> 
> This chapter may start slow, but it doesn’t end that way. Hope you enjoy!

Yuuri stood back, watching the scene in front of him. It was a frenzied flow of movement that would seem chaotic to anyone unfamiliar with a crime scene. But Yuuri saw the pattern, the seamless coordination of effort which over the years had never lost its thrill for Yuuri.

 

They were at the privately owned home of one of the members of the grand ducal family in Luxembourg -thankfully not at Berg Castle - where their activities would have been much harder to conceal. Interpol had put Yuuri in charge of the investigation after they had been contacted personally by the family member. It was well recognized by the higher ups that Yuuri had a penchant for handling highly political affairs - his soft and deferential manner reassuring to those used to power, and his love for art and history came in particularly useful when investigations involved historic treasures.

 

And this incident certainly fell squarely within that description.

 

The Just Judges… a panel of the Ghent Altarpiece, painted in the 15th century and considered to be one of the world’s treasures. The more exact replication of nature was considered a huge advancement in art - any art historian would kill to see the Just Judges in person. Yuuri, with his rank and classification, was privy to the secret list of art and treasures that Interpol kept, so he had known of its whereabouts, though he had never seen it himself. And never would, if he didn’t solve this case.

 

Of course the first question on everyone’s mind was how the thief had known where the painting was. Nothing else in the house had been touched, so it was clear that this was a targeted theft. That meant that either Interpol’s system had been hacked or someone within the grand ducal family had leaked the information. Either option was bad.

 

He absently gnawed on his already short thumb nail, watching his staff work the room, looking for whatever evidence they could find. There was always some trace of the thief, even if it lead them nowhere. His partner Phichit stood beside him, already busy on his tablet, logging into the security system and downloading the files. Seeing the files successfully begin to download, he turned to Yuuri.

 

“So, what do you think? There’s very few people or organizations that would have the resources to sniff out the location of this painting… so is the breach through us or the family? I have my own theory, but what does your gut say?”

 

Yuuri sighed. His gut was pretty sure what they would find. “I’m going to say breach of our system. According to the family members we’ve interviewed, very, very few people would have had access to this room, or if they had access, they would not have known the value of this specific painting. And the room was kept locked, so it’s not like a random visitor could have wandered in here. I suppose it could have been a former employee who was disgruntled, but it doesn’t sound like there are any obvious candidates. The staff that has left their employment in the last 10-20 years have either retired or left to start a family.”

 

Phichit nodded in agreement, looking tired all of a sudden. They had left in the middle of the night - Interpol’s headquarters in Lyon had been contacted first thing in the morning, and Phichit and Yuuri hadbeen called in shortly after, which ended up being around 3:00 am Detroit time. Neither of them had slept on the flight, trying to gather as much information as they could, and as a result they had now both been awake for around for over 16 hours. Not that it was uncommon for them, not at all, but they had yet to recuperate from their last assignment.

 

“I’ll go get us some coffee, Peach. I think we’ll probably be needed here for at least another four hours.” He turned as Phichit went back to staring at his tablet and the ever so slowly inching of the progress bar of the download.

 

As he made his way to the home’s kitchen in search of coffee, he pondered who could have hacked their system - and who could have known where to look. It was not known outside the organization that Interpol kept a list of seemingly lost treasures with known locations. There were so many politics surrounding these treasures, and in the majority of cases, no clear owner. So once a treasure was found by Interol’s agents, or its location reported to Interpol, if the situation was particularly delicate the location was noted on the list, and going forward no active resources were assigned to find it. After all, some of the items on the list could start wars.

 

But the thing was, only very few people even within Interpol knew of the list. Knowledge of it was on a strictly need-to-know basis. So if they had been hacked, how had the hacker known what it was? It’s not like the filename was ‘List of Secret Treasures’ or something wildly obvious or ridiculous. Well, maybe Phichit would be able to answer that one, though he suspected the answer would involve too much techno-babble for Yuuri to understand.

 

He reached the kitchen and found a member of the household staff sitting on a stool looking as tired as he felt. It was 11:30 pm local time, and he imagined the man was tired at the end of a rather stressful day, even though he jumped up at attention the moment Yuuri had entered the room. After being contacted about the theft, Interpol had sent some agents that were stationed close by to secure the residence and the inhabitants. Yuuri was very particular about how he conducted investigations, and he refused to let any work beyond securing the scene begin until he had arrived and determined himself how they should proceed. Unfortunately, that meant in this instance that work hadn’t even begun until around 8:30 pm, which was why the late night.

 

He smiled apologetically at the man, and, after receiving his requested two mugs of coffee, he made his way back to the private library where the painting had once been displayed.

 

Entering the room again, he handed the second mug to Phichit who took it appreciatively. He took a moment to savour his own coffee, taking in the opulence of the room with its heavy furniture, handcrafted mouldings and carefully chosen art, a few pieces of which he recognized. Relaxing somewhat, he went back to business. “So Peach, you mentioned you had a theory of your own - care to share?”

 

Phichit looked back down at his coffee in contemplation, gathering his thoughts before he answered. “Well,” he mumbled hesitantly, looking up at Yuuri reluctantly, “the thing is, there’s something I’ve suspected for a while now.”

 

Yuuri snapped to attention at that, weariness all but forgotten as he eyed his friend and partner. “Oh?” he inquired, trying to sound casual, “what wild theory have you come up with now?” Although Phichit was known for his love of all conspiracy theories, and had, in fact, come up with a number himself, Yuuri knew it was foolhardy to dismiss Phichit’s theories out of hand. The two had been partners for years, and somewhere along the way had become best friends as well. Yuuri had a healthy respect for Phichit’s intellect and instinct. The man was a savant when it came to anything computer related, from coding to actually physically tinkering with the insides. Sometimes, when Yuuri was at his most whimsical (drunk) he was convinced that they were all in the Matrix and Phichit was Neo, seeing real life as streams of code while the rest of them stumbled through life accepting the computer generated images.

 

“Well…,” Phichit glanced at him, still hesitant, though Yuuri didn’t know why. “You know I’ve been modelling Victor’s actions, right?”

 

Oh. _Victor_. That’s why Phichit was so hesitant.

 

…Victor. The one that got away. No, the one that _always_ got away. He was the only criminal Yuuri had yet to bring to justice. And yet, it seemed he was always placed on files where Victor was the culprit. Yuuri took in a slightly shaky breath. He did not want to think about Victor right now - for many reasons.

 

“Yuuri… I know you have this giant ass crush on him, but --”

 

“NO!!!” Yuuri interjected, much too loudly. He looked around to make sure no one was listening, then, lowering his voice he sternly chastised Phichit. “I certainly do not! I have no idea where you would get that idea from Peach. Just because it seems like I’m always chasing him, it’s simply because that’s my awful luck in getting assigned files.”He was both horrified and embarrassed that his partner would think such a thing. It was true, he thought, that from what he could tell, Victor must be gorgeous. He’s only ever seen him in person once, the first time they had met, but he would never forget his eyes. He’d been wearing black, head to toe, his outfit covering his head entirely except for those eyes, eyes that were the colour of the Mediterranean Sea and glittered like the sun sparkling off the waves. The gaze that had met his with an expression that had become strangely vulnerable. And as for the rest of him...his skintight clothing certainly hadn’t hidden anything of his form, a form that Yuuri had been able to observe closely as he had escaped through the attic panel. He may lie to himself about a lot of things, but not the fact that Victor had the body of some sort of Greek god - broad shouldered, yet still slim and perfectly muscled. Not that he expected any less from the man who was known for his acrobatics.

 

It was also true, he thought, grumbling to himself, that Victor liked to tease him mercilessly - and that he seemed to treat this as some sort of game of cat and mouse between the two of them. A game Yuuri was determined to win, and not just because he was fiercely competitive. No, Yuuri was passionate about his job, passionate about making sure that treasures were not mislaid, and recovered treasures were returned to their rightful owners. Too much beauty had been lost over time to wars and theft. Yuuri wanted to ensure that everything that could be found was found, and everything that could be preserved, was preserved.

 

Phichit rolled his eyes, but continued, “Anyway… as I said, I’ve been modelling his heists and there are some things that are eerily consistent, and as you well know, there is a before Yuuri and an after Yuuri in Victor’s crimes - - ”

 

Yuuri choked on his coffee, interrupting Phichit as he ungracefully spit coffee all over the (no doubt one-of-a-kind-irreplaceable) Persian rug they were standing on.

 

Phichit clapped him on the back, smiling reassuringly at their colleagues that Yuuri had distracted with his outburst, and waited until their attention was turned back to their work before continuing.“No, don’t deny it, you know it’s true. For the most part, his thefts, or the ones we can attribute to him, changed after Boston. Setting aside the reason - and your denial - the fact is that Victor changed after that night. Both his methods and the nature of his heists. But even taking that change into account, there are still a few anomalies. And every time there’s an anomaly, he appears to have knowledge that he shouldn’t… but Interpol _does_.. ”

 

Yuuri remained quiet, though he was flushed so red he half wondered how he was still conscious since his blood flow appeared to be defying gravity. He cleared his throat, and tried to regain his dignity. “Okay, so what does that have to do with the Just Judges?”

 

“I’m pretty sure Christophe has a sleeper line into our system.”

 

“A WHAT????!!!!” Yuuri bit his tongue as he got everyone’s attention _again_. He shook his head, mentally berating himself for his lack of subtlety and inquired in a much softer tone, “What exactly do you mean by sleeper line?”

 

Phichit’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, as they often did when he was presented with something new, difficult or ingenious. “It means I think he hacked into our system long ago, a passive hack that just slowly collected information, but stayed away from the encrypted areas to avoid drawing attention. It was probably a really convincing phishing email, and since it’s passive, it hasn’t triggered our cyber security team. But you see, quite often a lot more knowledge can be gained from learning about the holes - the missing bits - than from the information actually received. From what we know of Christophe he is brilliant, but more importantly, he’s patient. Anyone who is methodical enough, or pedantic enough, would be able to figure out there are certain drives that are hidden even beyond the highest classified files. Information, code, it has a pattern. And once you’re familiar with that pattern, it’s easy to see where the holes are, where there are seemingly missing pieces. I think --” Phichit paused a moment, frowning, before continuing more confidently, “I think Christophe is close to my level or even my equal. My gut says he could figure it out, and more than that, from what I’ve seen of the splicing of the security files, it has Christophe’s signature all over it.”

 

Yuuri avoided responding for a moment by taking several sips of his coffee. He wasn’t surprised, truly. Victor always seemed to be in the right place at the right time, so to speak. His knowledge just seemed _too_  perfect.

 

“Well, I guess we’ll just wait and see if they find a note then,” he responded, still determined to keep his casual demeanour. 

 

Beside him, Phichit snorted. “Nice try, Katsuki. Don’t even pretend for a second you’re not looking forward to another letter from _lover_ boy.”

 

Yuuri nearly stuck his tongue out in response before he remembered their surroundings. “Phichit…” he said in a low voice, full of warning and a pointed glance at the staff still swirling around them taking samples and dusting everything in sight for fingerprints. He didn’t need his underlings listening to this conversation. It was bad enough that his frequent encounters with Victor - which never ended in arrest - were already the subject of much gossip. If others were to find out the content of the letters Victor left him - well, from the sheer humilation he’d have to leave Interpol and find some sort of anonymous job in some sort of anonymous town in America and leave his dream job at Interpol. Which was not going to happen. While he always disclosed the contents of the letters to his superior, there was no way he’d let others find out that apparently _Victor_ , the living legend, the ultimate modern thief, seemed to have a _crush_ on Yuuri. Or at least that’s what Phicht said, and Yuuri couldn’t completely deny his friend’s theory. After all, the letters had become strangely anecdotal, and if it was appropriate to use the term, personal.

 

After Boston Victor began leaving notes behind at every crime scene (or at least they thought it was every one, with Victor they never really knew what he was responsible for). They were all addressed to Yuuri and sealed with wax, the writing a looping calligraphy done with paper and ink that sadly seemed to be the most popular orders on internet sites. At first the notes were brief, strange reassurances that the stolen treasure or artwork would be well taken care of. It wasn’t long until they progressed to matters beyond the case that they were on opposite ends of. It started with random questions, like whether Yuuri liked dogs and speculation about Yuuri’s favourite colour. He had even started telling Yuuri about his travels - asking him if he’d been to a specific mom and pop restaurant in Seoul, or if he’d had time to visit the tulip fields in Holland.

 

The last had been the first that had been mildly disturbing. From the text, it appeared that Victor had been observing Yuuri outside the heists they were both involved with. Yuuri knew that his superiors had been giving the letters not to just their profilers, but consulting psychiatrists as well, trying to determine if Victor was a sociopath or had some other mental health problem.

 

But Yuuri just thought he sounded lonely. He thought back to the last letter he had received.

 

 

> _My dear Yuuri,_
> 
>  
> 
> _I am sorry that I have to make work for you once again. I know you’ve been so busy lately, and I imagine you would rather be relaxing right now, and not dealing with me and my activities. Although what Detroit has for rest and relaxation is beyond me. You should try Malta sometime, it’s one of my favourites._
> 
>  
> 
> _I want to reassure you that this painting is going where it will be appreciated… and that the funds will be too._
> 
>  
> 
> _Now, more interesting news!!! My puppy is doing well. I know, you’ll say she’s not a puppy, but to me she will always be a puppy, and really, if you saw her, you’d agree she still acts like one._
> 
>  
> 
> _She’d love you, you know. And I know you’d sneak her treats when I wasn’t looking. You may be by-the-book, but I know you, Yuuri. You’d never be able to resist Makka’s charms._
> 
>  
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
>  
> 
> _V_
> 
>  

The “V” with which Victor always signed his name was elaborate and ostentatious, like he imagined the man himself would be. His letters read like something you would write to a penpal as a child, not something a grown man, never mind a sophisticated criminal, would write. But still… despite the childish undertones to his letter, the way Victor always mentioned his dog like she was the most important thing in the world left Yuuri thinking that Victor must not have anything or anyone else in his life. Perhaps that was the real reason he wrote to Yuuri.

 

A part of him hoped for and looked forward to another letter from Victor. He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he was just as interested in Victor as the man appeared to be in him. Their one personal encounter had been brief, true, but it had been intense. When their eyes had met, Victor had been unguarded, and it had given Yuuri a glimpse of the ‘man behind the mask’ so to speak - and it had not been what he had expected. The intelligence was expected, and evident; but there was also a softness that he didn’t expect, a vulnerability in being seen by someone, almost like it was for the first time. There was also something that resembled shame, as if the man knew he was doing wrong and was expecting to be chastised. Rather like a dog that had just eaten its owner’s shoe because he just couldn’t help himself, and was awaiting his master’s punishment, head down, tail between his legs. It was rather endearing, if Yuuri was honest, and compelling. Since then he had felt himself drawn to Victor, and all the unpredictability that came with working those cases even though there was the ever present frustration of never having solved a single case where Victor was involved. Since the moment they had ‘met’, Victor had been an unending chain of surprises, and he wondered somewhat fondly what new surprise this case would reveal.

 

Phichit nudged him, bringing his attention back to the present where a woman was walking towards him holding a small rectangle of paper that was [folded intricately](http://assembleshop.blogspot.ca/2013/01/crafty-project-junior-high-love-note.html#.Wr68FojwY2w). 

 

This one was folded in the shape of a heart, and sealed, as usual with a generic red wax and ‘V’ stamp sold at an American chain craft store. Yuuri tried to control his blush as the agent handed him the heart, her brow raised in question at the obvious message.

 

“As per standing instructions, upon seeing the ‘V’ stamp, we have dusted for fingerprints, and taken samples of paper, ink and wax, but left the letter sealed Sir,” the woman reported in a flat voice, attempting to avoid the obvious question. Victor had always employed various paper folding techniques, evoking the image of teenage girls in the 90’s, but this was the first letter that had resembled the image of a ‘love note’. Yuuri was mortified, once again turning a shade of red a tomato would envy.

 

Phichit stepped in for him, as he often did when he sensed Yuuri was overwhelmed. He reached out, taking the letter and responded, “Thank you, we’ll take it from here.” He took the letter and handed it to Yuuri, then as further distraction, inquired, “How close is the team to finishing up?”

 

“I would say about three hours, Sir,” the agent replied, straightening her posture and turning around, a determined look on her face. Everyone was tired at this point.

 

Yuuri held the letter in his hand, unsure whether he should open it in their current location. If the heart shape was any indication, he thought privacy might be better for this one.

 

Phichit, of course, couldn’t let it pass once the agent had gone back to work. “OH, I see lover boy is getting more serious now!” he teased quietly.

 

Yuuri didn’t react beyond shooting Phichit a look that didn’t hide the level of his annoyance. “We’ll examine it later, once we are done here. I want to be able to devote all our concentration to it, and not be distracted by work going on at the scene.”

 

Phichit gave him a knowing look, but wisely chose to stay silent. They both parked the subject for later consideration while they finished directing staff, received reports, and discussed next steps.

 

Eventually the activity wrapped up, and they sent a short report to headquarters, finally able to return to their hotel room for the night.

 

They always shared a room - it was easier to collaborate that way since one or them (or both) always seemed to have middle-of-the-night revelations. Really, at this point, considering how much they traveled they were practically roommates. They went through their familiar routine, stowing their bags and removing the essentials for the night before Phichit finally broke the silence. “So… you going to open it tonight?”

 

Yuuri looked over at him, midway through pulling out his pyjamas and getting ready for a much needed shower, before stuttering, “N-n-n-o, not tonight. I ...uh… um want to have a fresh mind when we first read the message. This one is different - I think we can both see that - so I want to wait until I’m more at the top of my game. Today has been exhausting.”

 

Phichit looked at him for a long moment before nodding. “Yeah, ok. It really has been a long day, so maybe waiting is best. Can you sleep though, not knowing?”

 

“That is NOT going to be a problem!” He chuckled, “Everything lately has been… a lot. I was exhausted even before this. And, jet lag.”

 

His friend erupted in laughter at the last statement. “Ah, the famous Katsuki jet lag. I should have known that would overpower you curiosity.”

 

Yuuri glared at him, though it lacked malice. “I’m tired Phichit,” he nearly whined. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a full night’s sleep!”

 

“I know. Believe me, I feel it too. I think this time we can afford a decent sleep. It’s Victor, we know that time isn’t a huge factor in trying to track him down. Nothing is going to change in the next eight hours.”

 

Yuuri nodded sleepily at him, and with that the two of them readied for bed and slept deep and without interruption until Phichit’s alarm finally went off.

 

By the time they woke up, the sun was already heading closer to the top of the sky, indicating it was getting close to noon. Used to Yuuri’s habits, Phichit quietly ordered breakfast, ensuring an ample supply of coffee.

 

Although Yuuri was perfectly capable of getting up in the morning - or for that matter, any time throughout the night, everyone knew well that it was unwise to speak until he had ingested a significant amount of caffeine.

 

Once he was sufficiently awake, caffeinated and dressed for the day, Yuuri finally addressed the letter he had been so obviously avoiding. “Ok, let’s see what Victor has to say this time,” he murmured to himself, completely oblivious of the look in his eyes that screamed both fondness and anticipation.

 

Poised over a mat that would collect any evidence, even the smallest spec of dry skin that fell from the letter, Yuuri carefully broke the wax seal using a pocket knife he kept on him. Sliding the knife underneath the seal, he freed the paper underneath from the wax that held it carefully closed. He then gently tugged at the centre flap of the heart, easily pulling the letter apart and meticulously unfolding it. He vaguely wondered if this time they would find any evidence in the letter, but in the past Victor had always been much too cautious for that.

 

Holding his breath unconsciously, Yuuri scanned the newest letter, his heart in his throat and a flutter he refused to acknowledge in his stomach. Straightening the paper with resolve, he read Victor’s latest missive.

 

> _My dearest Yuuri,_
> 
>  
> 
> _I’ve missed you. It’s been too long, so maybe that’s why I needed to take this when it came up._
> 
>  
> 
> _But…_
> 
>  
> 
> _If you knew the truth I think you’d be glad it was me this time. Don’t worry, nothing bad will happen. I can’t have you doubting me. Not after all this time._
> 
>  
> 
> _I know, once again you’ve not had a chance to rest. I’m sorry, dear one, to do this to you again. Please take care of yourself. After all, you’ll never catch me if that brilliant mind of yours is stifled by exhaustion._
> 
>  
> 
> _But for now… proceed with caution. Do not let anyone outside of your organization know what I’m sure you will come to suspect. Let’s just say there was a higher bidder._
> 
>  
> 
> _Makka says hi!_
> 
>  
> 
> _Yours always,_
> 
>  
> 
> _V_
> 
>  

Yuuri frowned, deep in thought, and passed the note to Phichit, who had also donned gloves to protect any evidence they might have found on the inside of the letter.

 

Phichit quickly read the letter, and let loose a low whistle. They both remained silent while they considered Victor’s words, and the different tone this letter had taken.

 

Phichit spoke first, Yuuri still deep in thought. “So he, uh, wants you to ‘catch’ him. Apparently.”

 

Yuuri’s eyes widened incredulously as he stared at his friend and partner. “*That’s the most important thing you took from the letter Phichit????!!!!!??” Can we please talk about his warning? I think that is much more significant!”

 

Phichit pursed his lips, stifling his retort. He knew Yuuri would disregard how much Victor appeared to value him in favour of being embarrassed by his words. And now that they had solid evidence of that value, they would need to figure out how to use that to their advantage. But he knew Yuuri wasn’t ready for that discussion, not by a long shot. He’d have to tread slowly with this one. “Ok, so what do you make of the warning, then?”

 

“Well, this piece has an interesting history. I’d mentioned on the plane that it was previously owned by the Royal family of Belgium. The original theft was in part a political one, which is why, of course, that it’s on the list. I had first dismissed a political reason for the theft - after all, Luxembourg and Belgium have good relations, and nothing suggests that there’s any fights about trade, ports, that sort of thing.But now,” Yuuri paused, thoughts completely opaque to Phichit as he churned something over. “Now I wonder if the other buyer Victor has alluded to is German. Germany never stopped asserting its rights over the Ghent Altarpiece. Snatching the missing piece would be quite the statement, but I can’t think of why they would do it. Germany is stable, there’s no ill relations that would lead to such a move.”

 

“Not in government anyway. Every nation has their extremists. It could be some faction that still believes in German supremacy,” Phichit hypothesized. This was definitely not his specialty, but in his job it was impossible to stay ignorant of politics for long.

 

“Hmmm… of course, you’re right Phichit. So I wonder if this means that Victor’s buyer is in Belgium. It seems too simple, but perhaps the simple answer is the best answer.”

 

“Well, it wouldn’t have been so simple if Victor hadn’t pointed out the situation was sensitive and that there was a higher bidder.” Phichit resisted the urge to shake his head. He wasn’t thrilled that they were relying on information from Victor, but Victor’s warning had not seemed manipulative - rather, it had seemed genuine and concerned. It was not something that would throw them off Victor’s trail, and if anything, it would help them narrow down possibilities in order to find him. Phichit glanced at Yuuri only to find his partner had completely tuned him out and was staring at the sterile mat on the table. “...Yuuri???” he questioned, knowing Yuuri’s mind had cottoned on to something important.

 

“Peach… I can’t believe this,” Yuuri whispered almost reverently. “I can’t… I wonder… did he do this on purpose?”

 

Phichit reached out and reached out slowly until he was barely touching Yuuri’s shoulder, not wanting to startle him. “Yuuri, what are you talking about? Words, Yuuri.”

 

Yuuri startled slightly as he was brought back to reality. He knew he tended to get lost in his thoughts, and he was thankful Phichit was there to pull him back when he got too submersed in his musings. “Peach… there’s a hair. A single hair. And it’s silver. Do you… do you think it’s his?”

 

Yuuri pointed to the single hair that had fallen onto the mat, and both men stared at it dumbfounded.

 

Victor was careful. Victor never made mistakes like this - had never left a shred of evidence that they could do anything with. The question was, did he do this on purpose, or did the man finally make a mistake?

 

Yuuri carefully lowered the letter to the mat, ensuring that it did not touch the hair that was lying there so innocently and mocking them.

 

Phichit looked to his partner, who now had an unreadable look on his face. “Yuuri…?” he inquired softly, wanting to know why his friend wasn’t snagging the hair and placing it in an evidence bag immediately.

 

“Peach. We... uh… I can’t. Not through official channels.” Yuuri was still having trouble vocalizing, his thoughts a raging storm, a tornado on an otherwise deceptively calm summer day.He inhaled deeply, turning to his partner, who was first and foremost his best friend.

 

“Victor left this for me knowing he was taking a risk because he wanted to protect me and reassure me. He’s… given us something in trust Peach. His letter is almost… pleading. I can’t… just can’t pass this over to headquarters. Not yet. Not until we see how this plays out.” Yuuri paused then, obviously rapidly thinking through what he was about to say.

 

“But if that hair is his, Yuuri…” Phichit cautioned.

 

“I think it is Peach. The glimpse I got of him gave me the impression that his eyelashes were platinum blond. This silver isn’t that far off from what I remember. I know we can’t let this go entirely. We’ll collect it ourselves, keep it clean, and have someone we trust do the analysis. Make sure we preserve the evidence properly. But… if you’re correct and Chris has a sleeper line… wouldn’t we want to have this evidence to ourselves, outside of the system?”

 

Phichit cackled in response, shaking his head in both surprise and approval. “Yuuri, my bff, you are brilliant.Yeah, we’ll keep this out of the system. If Victor screwed up, then he won’t know and we have an advantage. And if he did it on purpose, he’ll be waiting to see what we make of the results, so if that’s the case, let’s keep him guessing.”

 

“Mmmm, good, I’m glad we’re on the same page. So, who do we ask to take care of this?”

 

“Kenjiro Minami from Minako’s group, of course,” Phichit answered. “You’re his idol, so he’ll do anything you ask, no questions asked. The boy is a bit of a genius, so there’s no worries about his competency. But you’ll have to ask him personally, I know I wouldn’t be able to persuade him to overlook official protocol.”

 

Yuuri turned red again, uncomfortable with the thought that junior agents felt that way about him, but at the same time realizing that it was perfectly natural that at least a few would. After all, he’d had his own idols when he was a junior.

 

“Alright,” he nodded, “I can take care of that. Thanks for the recommendation, Peach. I wouldn’t have known who to go to, and I don’t believe I’ve met Kenjiro before. It is a rather delicate situation, though I’m comfortable justifying our decision to our superiors if it comes up. The sleeper line is just too much of a risk.”

 

Phichit successfully prevented himself from rolling his eyes, and instead offered his partner a smile of support. “I agree completely,” he stated, somewhat vaguely. He wasn’t going to make Yuuri doubt his decision by drawing out the true reason behind it. After all, it was painfully obvious that Yuuri Katsuki wanted Victor for himself, and not just to arrest and to throw away in a remote cell somewhere to rot. No, his best friend may have started out with just a crush on Victor after the Boston incident, but over the course of time, that crush had begun to develop into more complicated feelings for Victor; feelings that Phichit believed to be a fledgling love. And, strangely enough, if this latest letter was any indication, the feeling was mutual.

 

~~~~~~

 

Review of the security footage hadn’t yielded a single clue, but Phichit and Yuuri were known to be thorough. They had managed to gain access to some of the neighbour’s security footage, the rumour that there had been a theft in the exclusive neighbourhood sufficient to motivate the neighbours to willingly release the footage.

 

It was two days after the theft that Phichit finally found what he was looking for. It was from the house that was the furthest away from those from which they had obtained footage. Realistically, they hadn’t expected to find anything due to the distance and the fact that there were opportunities for any passing vehicle to turn off before they reached that particular house.

 

But on tape, early in the morning of the night of the theft, there was a brief shot of a black Mercedes passing by. Though it might seem innocuous, their staff had meticulously tracked the movement of every vehicle appearing on all the other security footage, and not only did the car not appear in any of the other footage, but a review of a map of the area showed that the car had seemed to appear out of nowhere.

 

Phichit, of course, was beside himself with excitement. Yuuri had been reviewing the reports when Phichit dashed into the room that the grand ducal family had generously permitted him to use as an office as sorts.

 

“Yuuuuuurrrriiii!!!! We’ve got it!!! We actually have a visual this time!” Phichit babbled excitedly at top speed.

 

Yuuri chuckled, smiling at his friend’s enthusiasm, even as he felt his own heart rate speed up in anticipation. “Ok, slow down, Peach. What exactly do you have?”

 

“Right. Ok. Slow down.” Phichit inhaled deeply, visibly ordering his thoughts so he could give a coherent report. “The house that was just outside the 2km radius, you know the one that we weren’t going to ask but they approached the family and volunteered their footage?” Yuuri nodded in response. The house had been just outside their usual search radius, but they had volunteered and they were certainly not going to turn down the opportunity for more information. “Well, at 02:47 hours the feed from the camera at their front gate shows a black Mercedes, S-Class, heading east, away from the crime scene. We have verified that not only does this car not appear in any of the other footage, but also it is not possible that the car would not have been spotted by at least one of the other houses whose security footage we reviewed.” Phichit paused to take a breath (and more likely for dramatic effect). This means that it is more than likely that the security footage from the houses in our usual 2 km search radius was hacked. I’ll need some time to verify that, of course, but it looks like we’ve got a confirmed visual. They’re running the plates now. We didn’t get a full view, but we did get five out of the six characters. It shouldn’t take long to get the results.”

 

“You realize that the licence plate is more than likely fake, right Peach?” Yuuri admonished gently. “Not that this isn’t fantastic news, but I doubt that we’ll be able to do much with it.”

 

Phichit smirked back at him. “Oh, Yuuri, ye of little faith. It’s very probable that he’ll use the car again while he’s here, or if he’s left already, we can still trace at least some of Victor’s movements. Traffic cameras… we can scan those and see what we can come up with. Given that the grand ducal family is involved, I have no doubt that they can use their own police forces for this without revealing the exact reason. This sort of thing is fairly common and won’t arouse suspicion. And you realize what else this means… Chris knows our methods. From now on we should shake things up a little, be a little more unpredictable in our criteria when we search.”

 

… and this is why they were partners, Yuuri thought to himself. Both brilliant in different ways, and together they were quite the force to be reckoned with. “Ok, gotcha. You’re right, that does give us a lot more than we had before. So what now? We wait on the searches?”

 

“Yup. And in themeantime I want to review the security footage we collected and see what I can find. It’s obvious Chris spliced the footage, so I need to see what he’s left behind, of anything, for evidence.”

 

“Phichit… just a thought, but perhaps what you should do is give instructions to watch any traffic cameras near the border with Belgium. I still have a hunch that his buyer is in Belgium. I mean, several of Victor’s previous letters have alluded to the piece going to ‘where it belongs’ or ’where it will be appreciated’.… So I think that, combined with his warning, means he intends to return the painting to Belgium.”

 

“Good point. Actually that is a priority over the review of past security footage. I’ll go give the instructions now.” Phichit paused. “Given my theory on the sleeper line, let’s keep all instructions from here on out verbal if we can manage it. I don’t want to give them any warning if we do manage to find them.”

 

“Good point. I’ll mention to the agents from here on out everything is to be verbal when possible.” Phichit nodded and rushed off, leaving Yuuri alone once again to sort through the reports that they had received so far.

 

The next day and a half proceeded as they always did - the initial rush to collect evidence was over and the worker bees were busy with analysis of what had been collected. To most, this stage was the mostboring in an investigation, but to Yuuri, this part was the most exciting. At this point there were so many possibilities, so many clues, and finding the pattern to the clues was one of his favourite parts of the job. Yuuri loved chasing the trail, loved pulling the strings together and finding all the loose ends.

 

Not that it ever went that way when Victor was involved. But still… this time at least they had more than usual to work with.

 

Yuuri was working on his fifth coffee of the day, deep in a report while Phichit monitored something or other on his laptop when the call came in on Phichit’s cell. He answered tersely, deeply involved in his task, but quickly stopped, paying full attention to the caller and for a moment then turning to Yuuri, an expression of disbelief on his face.

 

“Yuuri… we’ve got him. We’ve actually got him.He’s headed to Arlon, he’s alone…”

 

Yuuri didn’t waste a word replying, instead picking up his own cell and quickly connecting with the agent manning the border surveillance operation. “It’s Agent Katsuki. Target has been spotted headed to Arlon. No passengers. Black Mercedes as briefed. Mobilize all agents immediately. Follow target until he makes contact with the buyer then move in. We’re on our way.”

 

Yuuri hung up, looking over at Phichit who was gazing back at him incredulously. He grinned back at his partner, though with mixed feelings in his heart. “I can’t believe it Peach, but I think this time… this time we might actually get him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how a sleeper line would work… so… if I’m completely off base, forgive me and suspend belief for the purposes of fiction :)
> 
> More info on the Just Judges:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Just_Judges


	3. Chapter 3 - Victor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor has a close call while delivering the goods and Yurio makes an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we pick up the story from Victor’s POV.

Victor was especially alert that afternoon, knowing that even if Yuuri wasn’t on his tail, this exchange had too many political connotations to ignore. There could be enemies anywhere. More like there probably _were_ enemies everywhere.

 

Still, he made it across the border to Belgium without incident, and though he was relieved he’d hadn’t yet attracted attention, it didn’t lessen his tension or his vigilance.

 

After all, none of the parties he was worried about were concerned about borders.

 

He was reassured by the sound of Chris chattering now and then in his ear, the connection secure… or so Chris claimed, but Victor trusted him. Chris had arrived in town hours ago, being careful not to get too close to the location of the drop, but close enough to be backup if things went wrong. He was headed toward a warehouse in the small industrial area of Arlon, Belgium. It was close enough to the centre of town that traffic on the road wouldn’t be unusual, yet since it was the weekend, the warehouse would be empty. It was - in theory - the perfect place to meet the buyer.

 

He was careful to follow all traffic laws, not appearing to be in a hurry, but despite the lack of urgency in his driving he found himself pulling into the lot a little early for the meeting. He parked, but didn’t exit the car, stretching and keeping his hands where anyone watching could see them. He knew every move he was making was monitored and he didn’t want to scare off the buyer.

 

Because this buyer… _this_ buyer HAD to have this piece. If this exchange didn’t work out there would be hell to pay on so many fronts that Victor just didn’t want to think about the repercussions.

 

Luckily, his worry seemed to be in vain as another vehicle pulled into the lot at a ‘safe’ distance from him. Chris went silent as he slowly, cautiously exited his vehicle, keeping an eye on everything. He had a micro camera implanted in the dermal piercing he wore in left his eyebrow - a ‘diamond’ - which he really hated but had had done specifically for situations like this. It meant that Chris had a full view of all that was going on as well. He knew in this case security was tight, and it would take some finesse to handle the situation. He knew the grand ducal family was counting on this exchange going well, and without any bloodshed, but he also knew they were wary of being duped. He had to be very, very careful not to give the buyer any reason to distrust him.

 

He stepped a few feet away from his vehicle, hands still away from his body, but his posture relaxed. After a few moments, a man exited the other vehicle from the back seat. His demeanour screamed government agent, which Victor found reassuring. He knew how to deal with government people; they all had their protocol, their formula. He let himself relax slightly, comforted by the fact that it was the buyer he was anticipating rather than a set up by some crime syndicate.

 

The man approached him at a steady pace, attempting and failing to exude confidence despite having his gun aimed and ready. But Victor knew the man had no need of confidence as he was backed up not only by the people he could see, but likely dozens of other agents either in the immediate vicinity or very close by.

 

Victor let his gaze become more open, more sincere as the agent approached, wanting to reassure the man however he could that this was not a trick, that there was no hidden agenda.

 

The man finally reached him, stopping about three feet away. The earth beneath his feet was hard packed; just hard enough not to sink into and without enough dust on the surface to leave footprints. _Perfect_ , Victor thought. The agent spoke then, but didn’t use the false name Victor had provided, apparently preferring to keep things as anonymous as possible.

 

“You claim to have procured the piece in question, I assume you brought it with you,” the man said in rough, accented French.

 

Victor nodded in response, “It’s in the back seat. I expect that you or your colleagues will want to get it out yourself? I can assure you that the piece is genuine, and I have a certain… motivation to ensure that your ‘client’ receives it. However, just a friendly heads up, I understand quite well the political implications of the original theft - I am aware of who stole it, who the recipient was, and why the recipient happened to be living in Luxembourg. I am also aware of how the piece was currently being leveraged. If you want to keep this matter buried, you will not only let me go safely, but ensure my involvement is never known. I’ve taken a particular personal risk to return this piece to you, and I have taken steps to ensure that if I were not to return from this meeting safely, the truth of the theft and recovery is released to some specific political figures.”

 

The man facing him appraised him in what seemed to be a slightly different light. He raised an eyebrow before speaking, obviously weighing his words carefully and finally replied, “D’accord… Stay here while I verify the authenticity. If everything is as you say, you’ll leave here safe and sound with payment as promised.”

 

Victor nodded, expecting as much and did as instructed. He was inwardly pleased that the everything was proceeding as he and Chris had anticipated. So far, the exchange was going as smoothly as it possibly could, though he was still on guard. The agent waved over several other agents, instructing two to guard Victor while another went with the first agent to retrieve the painting. They approached his car with caution and extracted the painting from the back seat. He’d carefully wrapped it, making sure that it would survive the trip and anything crazy it would have to endure before he finally connected with the buyers.

 

He watched silently as the agent evaluated the piece, knowing that it would be accepted as authentic since it was. Chris remained strangely silent in his ear, which gave Victor a bit of a buzzing feeling in his gut that tended to result in him fleeing the scene. He was already on edge and Chris’s uncharacteristic silence was not helping his already raw nerves.

 

Finally the agent seemed satisfied and nodded back at all the agents that were guarding Victor. “Ok you’ll find your —“

 

At that moment Chris burst through Victor’s ear in alarm, “GET OUT NOW! They have people on the way, ETA about three minutes.” Victor jerked his head towards the agent that had been speaking to.

 

“My associate has just informed me that Interpol is on their way - we have about three minutes,” he called loudly. He had barely finished speaking when he heard his guards’ ear pieces crackle to life, no doubt with the same message. The agent who seemed in charge issued a few crisp orders in French, and the men around him turned and ran back to their vehicle. Victor ran back to his car, passing the agents who were awkwardly running with the painting, still freed from its wrappings. As he passed, the agent in charge met his eyes as he spoke into a phone, “transférer le paiement de la version complete.”Well then, at least it appeared Victor would get his money.

 

He jumped in the driver’s seat, thanking the technology gods for push button start, and roared the engine to life, pulling onto the road before the others while Chris in a falsely calm voice gave him instructions.

 

“Head west until you hit the main road. Then take a right and head north. You can dump the car in a public lot by the train station. There’s a train… Brussel-Zuid at 2:37. You should be able to make it before they locate you. If not, there’s one to Libramont at 2:43, though that one limits our options.”

 

“Thanks Chris, got it,” he answered automatically, his mind completely focussed on his driving.

 

Moments later with some prompting from Chris he pulled into the public lot, grabbed the messenger bag he always carried containing the essentials and a change of clothes and sprinted to the train station. Before exiting the car he pulled out sunglasses and a baseball hat. His silver hair was far too distinctive, and he knew he’d have to be careful of cameras. The hat had part of a wig attached to it - brown curly hair peeked out from underneath. It wasn’t much, but it would somewhat of a disguise. With the minimum of a disguise in place he set off at a run to the train station.

 

“So, what happened Chris?” Victor murmured softly. “I’m not surprised they were watching the borders, but I don’t understand how they found our location so quickly. There’s no tracker on the piece, I made sure of that.”

 

There was a pause before Chris came back on, “I don’t know V, but you can bet I’m sure as hell going to find out.”

 

They both went silent then, Victor noting the time and purchasing a ticket for Brussels, while Chris was presumably plotting out the next steps.

 

Ticket purchased, and train due any second, Victor did not let his guard down, scanning everywhere for a sign he’d been spotted. They would certainly check the train station, but if he was lucky he’d be gone before they arrived. He kept his posture relaxed, lounging against a wall as if he had all the time in the world, and tried to exude with his body language that he was familiar with this train station, that it was routine. He had pulled out a burner phone he had on him for emergencies and pretended to be absorbed in it as any typical millennial would be. After all this time, he was a master of blending in with his surroundings, and those long ingrained habits kicked in even now, in spite the fact that the situation he was in could end very, very badly. After all, Interpol was the least of his worries.

 

To his immense relief, the train pulled up in short order. He got on the train without incident and sank down gratefully, the adrenalin starting to abate slightly. Being mid afternoon, the train was nowhere near crowded, but crowded enough he was unable to speak to Chris. He quickly exchanged the baseball hat for a beanie, tucking his hair underneath to make sure it was completely covered. Again, it wasn’t much, but often those little changes could be enough, especially if the camera footage was low quality.

 

A few seconds after the train pulled away, Chris came back on the comm. “Confirm successful boarding.” Victor coughed once in response, a code they had long ago worked out for these types of situations.

 

“Ok, I’m already on the way. Plan is get off at Libramont. I will give you instructions to meet me. If they have enough people we may have lost any lead time we had, so we’ll operate under the assumption they’ll be waiting for you. Try to uh ...make a friend on your way there.”

 

Victor rolled his eyes, but had already been scouting the train for possibilities. There were a couple - two young ladies around his age and a single mother with a baby in a stroller and boy who looked to be around six. One of the single ladies was dressed especially conservatively and was clearly engrossed in a book. He dismissed her, as she did not look the type who would talk to a stranger, never mind help someone she didn’t know. He decided to try the woman closest to him first. Not for the first time, he was glad he was fluent in several languages.

 

He got up, and made his way towards her, making sure he looked as non-threatening and friendly as possible. In his best French he inquired, “Excusez-moi, allez-vous à Libramont?” (excuse me, are you going to Libramont?)

 

“Non, désolé.” (No, sorry)

 

“Merci!” He sighed, not really having been expecting to luck out on his first try, and tried the young mother next, who was the next closest. Her answer, unsurprisingly, was the same; however, just as he was about to turn around, the other lady piped up.

 

“Excusez-moi, avez-vous besoin d'aide pour trouver quelque chose à Libramont?” (excuse me, did you need help finding something in Libramont?”

 

“Oh, ah,” Victor stalled, hoping Chris would supply some helpful information.

 

As always, Chris saved the day. “You are meeting a friend at Pep’s but don’t know where it is.”

 

“Oui! Je rencontre un ami chez Pep’s... mais je ne sais pas où c'est.” (Yes! Iam meeting a friend at Pep’s but I don’t know where it is.)

 

“Oh, c'est près de la gare. Je peux passer te prendre là.” (Oh! It’s close to the station. I can take you there)

 

“Merci!” Victor beamed at his new ‘friend’. “C'est gentil de ta part!” (Thanks! That’s so kind of you.) He sat down again, nearby, but not so close as to make the woman uncomfortable or intrude into her privacy. “Je vais vous laisser revenir à votre livre.” (I will let you go back to your book.)

 

She smiled shyly back at him, then went back to her reading, becoming engrossed almost immediately.

 

Chris chuckled in his ear, “I don’t know how you always do it, V. Must be your gray hair - they feel sorry for an old man!” Victor stifled the retort that threatened to burst out, and determinedly kept the pleasant, open expression on his face. He’d get Chris back for that later. And come, on! It couldn’t be his hair - it was currently concealed under his hat!!! And it was silver, most definitely NOT gray.

 

The rest of the trip was uneventful, with Chris giving short reports every now and then to keep him apprised of his progress and reassure him that he was still connected.

 

When they arrived at the station, Victor insisted on taking the young lady’s bags for her, insisting that since he was making her go out of her way it was the least he could do. Although he did have a chivalrous streak, his real purpose was to make it seem even more like they were traveling together. He babbled cheerfully at her while they walked, asking questions about the area, making sure to keep things friendly butnot too personal so as not to make her uncomfortable.

 

The walk was short, barely five minutes, and he was soon thanking the woman and entering a surprisingly hip little the cafe. Chris had let him know he was a minute or two out so Victor took the opportunity to order some sandwiches since it was a sure bet that they wouldn’t have the chance to stop for dinner. Chris’s timing was good; the server was just wrapping them up when Chris came back on the comm to let him know he was right outside.

 

He barely slipped into the passenger seat before Chris was pulling away, the route to Reims already programmed into the GPS. It was a bit of a scenic route home, but it was also the best chance of ensuring they made it back to Geneva undetected.

 

The two were silent during the first leg of their journey; Chris concentrating on the road and ensuring that they hadn’t picked up a tail, and Victor thinking back to the successful exchange, analyzing the interaction and satisfied that at least the exchange had gone as planned. Around 45 minutes later (Chris had avoided the direct route), they found themselves nearing the French border. Having planned this course ahead of time, they had taken precautions against the added security measures that had been in place the last few years, and Chris had their (fake) documents at the ready. A few flirtatious words from his suave friend and they were through, the border crossing having delayed them less than anticipated.

 

Victor let loose a sigh of relief once they had successfully passed into France, earning a side glance from his partner. Chris still didn’t speak though, completely focused on getting them to their next stop.

 

A scant 20 minutes later they entered Charleville-Mézières, from which they had rented their current vehicle and also arranged their next rental. When they had picked up the car they had posed as rich, idle heirs, who were ‘rebelling’ against their parents to do a road trip around Europe. It was a common enough scenario, really, and one any clerk at a rental agency wouldn’t raise an eyebrow at. Their cover story also gave them leeway if they returned unexpectedly and made strange demands. Because obviously young heirs would expect to get what they want when they wanted it.

 

They pulled into the lot, Chris being careful to park _just so_ , the back of the car unable to be seen directly by the security camera. He got out of the car, stretching dramatically, and made a huge show of getting their luggage out of the trunk. Victor had also climbed out, and was stretching, his arms above his head, making sure his shirt rode up, hopefully distracting anyone who was watching the cameras. He knew he had abs that could cut glass, and he was definitely not above using his looks to their advantage when necessary.

 

Chris gave a groan as he heaved out one of the suitcases, his signal that he was done. While Victor had been putting on a show and Chris had been removing luggage, Chris had subtly swapped out the fake license plate they had placed over the rental license plate. The fake plate was held in place by strong magnets, and while not perfect, the design had yet to fail them. They had a number of fake plates from various countries, all made to seem well used with dirt and dents, that they applied to rental vehicles when on a job. That way even if their license plate was discovered somehow, no one could trace the vehicles to the rental agency. Victor was glad of their methods especially now, since it seemed a good possibility that Interpol had somehow spotted the car he’d been using.

 

Having finished, the two men entered the rental office and secured a car to their second stop - Bourg-en-Bresse. There they would swap the rental and yet another license plate for their actual vehicle to enter into Switzerland… not that it would have their real license plate either. It was a gruelling drive, nearly 8 hours in total, but they were used to such things.

 

At least they’d be home before midnight. That would be an added benefit, though Victor supposed Yurio would be angry with him anyway… as usual.

 

~~~~~~

 

Victor woke up to his alarm at 7:30 the next morning, pleased that he’d managed a decent sleep despite everything. Chris had crashed in one of his many guest rooms, and he knew that it would be at around noon before his friend emerged and was ready to get to work. But now, he had more important things to attend to.

 

Yurio, his younger brother and his charge, had to leave for school in about an hour. And Victor, whenever he could, always made sure that he made Yurio’s breakfast and sent him off for the day. It was a ritual that had become important to them both, though Yurio would never admit it.

 

Victor had done his best to raise his brother well, and was careful to keep his activities as far from his home life as he could. Of course, that could only go so far, given his career history, and Yurio knew he was often involved in illegal and especially dangerous situations. Perhaps that was why the simple task of sending Yurio off for the day was so meaningful - it was a time when Victor could return to the memory of a ‘normal’ life, and from Yurio’s perspective it was reassurance that Victor had once again made it home safely.

 

He took a sip of the coffee that had been ready and waiting for him - he kept a small number of staff employed to see to his country mansion and the grounds, though his staff knew to leave him to the task of preparing Yurio’s breakfast when he was home.

 

He paused a moment, enjoying his coffee, and contemplated the view of the grounds that the window offered. He’d purchased the property somewhat on a whim. It was ridiculously expensive and ostentatious and more house and land than he could ever need. It was a moment of rebellion and celebration both; celebrating being free of Yakov and the increasingly distasteful jobs that were demanded of him, and rebellion to prove to fate that he was more than his roots, and that despite everything he had succeeded. And unlike the townhouse he kept in the city for business, the mansion was not in his name. Yakov would never be able to trace him to the property - an extra layer of security to keep Yurio safe.

 

And in the end, despite it being ridiculous that it was just himself and Yurio banging around in a 10,000 sq ft house with more land than they could dream of using, Victor loved it. The house had been built sometime around 1440 and was advertised as a castle. A castle as one would imagine, it was not; however, it was definitely built as a fortress and offered a sense of protection and grounding which Victor found he clung to. And with his appreciation of art and history, he loved all the character of the house - the massive ceiling beams that were always located somewhere inconvenient, the winding stone staircase that made one dizzy if they took it too fast, and the massive stone hearths that had once been used to feed and warm the inhabitants. All the handcrafted details, the art that was the house itself was a perfect backdrop to Victor’s personal collection. He loved being surrounded by, and steeped in, history. It was one of the few things that inspired him and brought him joy these days.

 

Other than his Yuuri, of course.

 

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he quickly gathered ingredients for breakfast. Today would be a frittata, as Yurio being an athlete needed a high protein, low(er) carb breakfast packed with nutrients. He perused the fridge for leftover vegetables, and finding a good variety, set to chopping. Once he was satisfied, he placed his favourite cast iron skillet on the stovetop to heat slowly and made sure the oven was on. While everything was heating, he mixed the eggs with some greek yoghurt and cheese and seasoning the mixture with salt, pepper, and just a dash of paprika.

 

Once he was satisfied with the temperature of both pan and oven, he set about putting the dish together, heating the vegetables so the temperature wouldn’t shock the eggs and to rid them of any excess moisture and then added the egg mixture, stirring gently. Placing it in the oven he poured himself a second cup of coffee and went to the breakfast table where he settled in with his tablet to check the news.

 

He’d barely opened his browser when Yurio came storming in, raging as only a 17 year old could. “Hey old man! Where were you last night? You said you’d be home and my fucking algebra teacher stuck us with this impossible homework!”

 

“Language, Yurio…” Victor admonished, the reminder having become mostly habit at this point. “We had to make a change of plans, and we got in a bit later than expected, that’s all. So did you manage to finish this ‘impossible’ homework?”

 

Yurio glared at him, huffing and mumbling to himself. Victor knew he’d just been worried, and anger was Yurio’s most frequent go-to for expressing any and all emotion. “Yeah, it’s fine, I found some shit tutorials online that got me through it. But that was just luck. You’d better be there next time. You promised if I enrolled in advanced math you’d help me through it!!!” For emphasis, Yurio kicked the base of the table, though Victor thought it probably hurt him a lot more than the table.

 

“I know, and I’m sorry. We’ll go over everything tonight after you’ve had your skating session, and you can tell me what you need help with.”

 

Yurio nodded sharply at him, apparently appeased for the moment. He was always more relaxed after his sessions with his skating coach, which Victor both appreciated and dreaded. With Yurio’s talent he had no doubt the boy could have been in international competitions if their lives had allowed it. But it wasn’t to be, since then there would be questions about his background, where he lived, who his coach was… and neither of them could afford that for obvious reasons. Even Yurio, as rebellious as he was, understood the need for anonymity.After all, they were both absolutely petrified of Yakov’s group. Perhaps not Yakov himself, but who knows what his goons would do… or what could happen if Yakov was replaced. Victor had perhaps made _too_ good of a name for himself in Russia.

 

Trying to change the subject, Victor decided to focus on skating. “How is the ice holding up? It was apparently a little challenging to turn the arena into an ice rink. So let me know if there are any issues with it. I know it’s no Yubileiny, but it’s the best we can do.”

 

Yurio looked up at him, a wistful look flitting across his face before he answered. “It’s good. Not always consistent ice, but they’re working on it. I think it’s just experience for the crew, not anything technical.”

 

Victor nodded at him and got up to pour some orange juice for the boy and to peek in the oven.

 

“It needs a couple more minutes,” he informed Yurio who was now studiously ignoring him in favour of his phone. Victor sighed internally. It was to be expected given his age, but he still hoped his brother would open up more with him. He left the boy to his privacy and went back to the news until the timer went and he dished up breakfast.

 

And of course Yurio had no regard for what was in front of him, shovelling it into his mouth like a man starving, then without a word running out the door as fast as he could to where a car and driver were awaiting him.

 

Victor inhaled deeply, determined not to take offense, and finished the rest of his breakfast while the mansion’s cook silently came back in and began cleaning up and preparing the rest of the day’s meals. He then grabbed what remained of his coffee and went to his office to prepare a debrief for the next day and work through his email.

 

~~~~~~

 

The next evening found Victor back in his townhouse and pacing in the working room he’d set up for his ‘professional activities’ while he and Chris waited for Georgi.

 

Georgi was an unusual man - the same age and former affiliations as Victor, yet nothing he had been through had seemed to harden the man. Georgi felt his emotions completely and desperately, and his unsuccessful love life was the subject of way too many conversations for Victor’s liking.

 

Still, Georgi was Victor’s broker, and had been good to him over the years, both finding buyers for his goods at top dollar, and hooking him up with buyers when there was a job someone needed done. Despite being associated with Yakov’s group, Yakov had let him go fairly easily, though perhaps that was because Victor was one of the few people actually willing and able to put up with Georgi’s dramatics. And of course, a part of his dramatics included insisting on being late to anything that wasn’t a job.

 

Chris was busy on his laptop with an intense look on his face and analyzing something that obviously didn’t make him happy. He hadn’t yet told Victor what he’d found out about what/how things went wrong, saying he’d wait for the debrief so he could pull together a more complete report.

 

Finally Georgi arrived, a good 30 minutes after they were supposed to start.

 

“Gee, nice of you to join us Georgi,” Victor greeted, sarcasm thickly coating his words.

 

“Don’t start with me, Victor. You’re on thin ice with me right now. What the hell was with the drop? Do you have any idea how spooked the buyer is? I’ve done nothing but damage control, trying to convince them that you were not setting them up. It’s lucky you managed to somehow convince the field agent they sent of your sincerity, or we’d all be underground by now!!!And do you have any idea the chatter that is going around with people trying to figure out why the hell Interpol was suddenly active in Belgium? If you want me to continue working with you, you’d better explain pretty damn fast why this is not your fault.”

 

Victor spluttered a bit and looked to Chris for support.

 

Chris’s eyes were still focused downward, though it was evident he wasn’t actually looking at his laptop. “It’s not all Victor’s fault Georgi. Yes, I do agree, he was careless with the chatter this time around, and we’ll get to that. But it appears we hit a bit of bad luck.”

 

“Oh?” Both Georgi and Victor looked at Chris expectantly, who sighed under their scrutiny.

 

“Yes, well, it appears that they didn’t follow standard procedure this time,” Chris replied tensely. “While the normal operating procedure is to check all cameras in a 1 km radius, for Yuuri and Phichit their standard practice is to check cameras in a 2 km radius from the scene, so I make sure that I’ve located all the cameras within that radius on our planned exit routes and splice the video according to the actual route Victor takes so there’s nothing to see. Sometimes, albeit rarely, Victor’s forced to take a different route altogether and I have to do it after the fact. But this time everything was in place, the exit was ‘plan A’, and the video was altered almost in real time. It should have been the usual clockwork operation. In this case for whatever reason, they decided to check a security camera on a house a bit outside of that radius, and it caught Victor’s car.”

 

“How did you find that???!!!” Georgi demanded, incredulous.

 

Chris tried and failed to refrain from rolling his eyes. “Well, obviously, I checked the rest of the exit route for recent visitors. And just outside the radius I found security footage of Interpol personnel at the house that would have had a perfect view of Victor’s car. Since it was just outside the search radius and on the escape route I found it almost immediately.” He turned to Victor then, waggling his eyebrows comically. “You can have Yuuri, but I’ll take Phichit. Brains AND the guy is gorgeous. I’m starting to wonder if he might be able to catch up to me.”

 

Victor snorted. “Catch up to you? Chris, you’re in a league of your own… no one can pull off what you do.”

 

Chris shook his head, appearing to be somewhat nostalgic. “Non, mon ami, those days are coming to an end. Phichit has a handle on all things digital that scares even me. He’s also an expert at data mining social media sites, and you know I keep telling you that’s the last and most important bastion of information gathering and manipulation.”

 

“Anyway…” Chris paused and took a deep drink from the water beside him. “...even with the fake plates, traffic cameras would have picked you up at some point, and we have to assume they got at least a partial on the license plate. Given how sensitive the situation is, I’m sure they had local law enforcement scanning all available footage to find possible matches for the car you used - I don’t even need to hack into anything to figure that out. Now I’m even more thankful you dumped it in Arlon, plates and all.”

 

Victor ran a hand through his hair, pinning his bangs back briefly before they succumbed to gravity and covered his eye once again. He was taking advantage of the silence to run various scenarios in his mind, including what would have happened if Yuuri had managed to catch him this time. He found himself suddenly gripped with fear, like a cold snake curling around his spine. He didn’t care if Yuuri caught him per se; but if that had happened, Yakov would know. He’d know that Victor had not honoured their deal, and this time had actually been in direct competition. And what that would mean for his friends, and Yurio… he just couldn’t bear the thought. Both Chris and Georgi were right - this was NOT the job to be careless.

 

“And what about the chatter, Chris?” Victor inquired. “How did you not pick up any of this earlier?”

 

Chris looked frustrated and shook his head. “They must have figured out I have a sleeper line and are being extra cautious about their chatter - not that I need that line for that, but that’s the only explanation I can think of. Because there was nothing before the instruction to mobilize. And even that wasn’t as widespread as I would have expected given the circumstances.”

 

“However,” Chris directed his words and glare at Victor, “they were obviously watching the Belgian border because someone decided to leave loverboy a hint.”

 

“Oh, come on, Chris, they would have been watching all the borders anyway. I will admit, in this case I perhaps gave out more information than I should have, especially given Yakov’s interest. And I apologize for that. But I think they would have been watching anyway. They knew the history behind that painting, and I’m sure Belgium was on their list of possible destinations.”

 

Georgi sighed deeply. “I hate to admit it, but Victor is probably right this time. Maybe they had more agents focussed on the border than they would have had otherwise, but having spotted Victor’s car it really didn’t matter where the drop was. They would have located him and interfered with the drop regardless.”

 

Victor interrupted before Georgi could continue, “Even so, I do want you both to know I got your point about being careless. The last thing I need to do is get Yakov’s attention, and I will be more careful going forward.” Victor’s promise was sincere. He still hadn’t quite shaken that sense of fear that had come over him earlier.

 

“On that note, we may be lucky that they are now being more cautious in their chatter. Yakov is less likely to figure out it was you,” Georgi observed. “But that’s out of our control so let’s move on. The good news is, as we know, that the buyer completed the transaction. To be honest, I’m quite surprised that we got paid.”

 

“The agent gave the order as we were leaving,” Victor piped up. “After all, I did warn him that I had taken precautions before his own people, so I guess I earned some measure of credence with them. But, what of the other buyer?”

 

“Good news on that front too,” Georgi reported. The unsuccessful party raised their offer. Not too substantially, but enough to make sure people are still looking for it.”

 

“And our buyer?” Victor asked.

 

Georgi grinned. “Also raised their price. After all, since they have it now, they have nothing to lose. And I don’t believe they want the Germans to know they have it. At some point someone is going to figure out why Interpol mobilized, but we should have some time before then.”

 

Victor turned to Chris, “And what about Yakov?”

 

Chris rubbed his eyes, pressing the heel of his hands into his eye sockets as he did so. He looked exhausted, Victor reflected. It was a good thing that they had no plans of taking another job anytime soon.

 

“So far it doesn’t appear that Yakov is suspicious. From what I can tell, his group is still looking for the painting, chasing rumours and theories. Quite honestly, we would be too if not for my line into Interpol. Nowhere in the theories we looked at is there any speculation about the truth.”

 

Victor nodded thoughtfully. “Given how sensitive this is politically, it suits both the Belgians and the grand ducal family to let misinformation and rumours persist. I wouldn’t doubt over the years they’ve even helped some of those rumours appear to be legitimate. Then our only risk remains the fact that Interpol mobilized?”

 

“At the moment, yes,” Chris replied. “I’ll be honest, given that the grand ducal family was involved, there’s bound to be some suspicion about why Interpol was in Luxembourg. We need to lie low and be very, very careful for the next while.” Chris shot a pointed look at Victor. “I had already started laying a false trail as to your whereabouts before this went sideways. I’ll have to work on that some, so expect some funds from your legit account to disappear. I need to pay for flights, hotels, etc.”

 

“Understood. And… thank you, Chris.”

 

Chris huffed. “It’s my ass on the line too, Victor. But also... I can’t let anything happen to Yurio. He may be the epitome of teenage angst, but for all that, he’s an innocent. I couldn’t live with myself if he ended up working for Yakov.”

 

With those words, Victor felt the cold, bitter snake tighten around his spine once more. After everything he’d been through, he couldn’t let Yurio fall to the same fate that he had.

 

“Me neither Chris, me neither.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spend way too much time on researching things like train schedules when this is FICTION. lol. 
> 
> Unfortunately the house I used for Victor isn’t for sale anymore, but it was actually a castle. Like a REAL castle. The pictures were beautiful. I had copied & pasted the description into my research so here it is (house originally listed by Knight Frank, this is their description):
> 
> Magnificent Chateau from the 15th centuryOriginally built around the year 1440, this stunning castle is set amongst extensive grounds of over 60,000m2 and perfectly positioned at the edge of this picturesque village.Nestled in the heart of the CÃ´te, on the charming town of Gingins, this magnificent chateau has been built during the 15th century by John II, the lord of Gingins, on a plot of over 68'000 m² and enjoys an extraordinary view of Mont Blanc.This exceptional main building offers a generous living area of 1,000 m² distributed over three levels and has 14 rooms. It has been fully restored and includes numerous reception rooms with beautiful parquet floors, fireplaces and period woodwork, all renovated with taste, while maintaining the style of the building.Eight large bedrooms, a spacious kitchen, nine bathrooms, cellars and wine cellar.The very spacious outbuilding includes accommodation for staff or guests, superb stabling, indoor swimming pool, offices and a space for exhibitions. Two further apartments for staff, three garages and ten parking spaces complete the property.The private park has many magnificent trees, a large heated 25 m swimming pool and an exercise track for horses.Note that the property offers the possibility to build a horse paddock and a tennis or volleyball court.Location informationIt is in the immediate vicinity of the village, the property enjoys easy access to the principal centers of interest such as the clinic of Genolier, the Signy Shopping center, Le Rosey college and is only 30 minutes from Geneva airport.
> 
> Next up we're back to Yuuri.


	4. Chapter 4 - Yuuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Phichit speculate about Victor and the Just Judges. The team then gets called away to investigate a crime committed by Yakov’s group and Yuuri shows once again why he’s the best there is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, this one got long. This really should be 2 chapters but I couldn’t figure out a good point to break, so here’s 10k words… (lol, don’t get used to it, I can’t keep up a pace like that!)
> 
> We’re back to Yuuri’s POV. I apologize to Interpol and I should have before. The liberties I’m taking are ridiculous. But it’s fiction. So ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> T/W for panic attack, non graphic violence

The sun was shining brightly through the crack in his blinds that always managed to angle the light across his eyes, no matter the time of year. Yuuri finally gave into the inevitability of waking, glad at least to be back home in Detroit at last. He’d allowed himself to wake naturally knowing he wasn’t expected at the ‘office’ that day. Of course, for him and Phichit, the office was a secure room in Yuuri’s house since they were the only two agents in Detroit. Being the only two members of the Art and Artifact division, their specializations had allowed them some freedom in where they lived, and they weren’t obligated to work out of one of the field offices (official or otherwise).

 

It suited the two of them just fine; they enjoyed the autonomy they had as it allowed them to run their cases the way that worked best for them. And their methods and work were never questioned, since they always got results in the end.

 

Except when it came to Victor.

 

Yuuri sighed deeply, running his hands across his face and rubbing his eyes. He’d been so close this time, and the feeling of disappointment was crushing. Although if he was being completely honest with himself (which he stubbornly refused to do), he would admit that a small part of him was glad that Victor had gotten away.

 

It was true what Phichit had said in Luxembourg - Victor’s crimes definitely had a before Boston and an _after_ Boston. Yuuri scoffed recalling Phichit’s insistence that _he_ was the reason for the change. Obviously the simple answer was that Victor had changed affiliations, or something else in his life had dictated that he change his ways. Yuuri idly wondered if perhaps Victor had married, or at least settled down. It would explain why his heists these days were few and far between. And why they seemed to be chosen carefully, with no violence involved.

 

Sitting up, he rolled his shoulders then began his morning stretching routine. He was not a morning person, and never would be, but the familiar routine of stretching and feeling the satisfactory warm burn in his muscles helped him face his day. He followed his stretches with a quick shower and dressed in comfortable clothing, thankful that his home office meant athleisure was perfectly acceptable work attire.

 

He was happy to find a pot of coffee already waiting for him in the kitchen, and knew it meant that Phichit was already up and most likely working. Taking his time, he poured himself a cup, inhaling the potent scent and poked around in the fridge, before giving up and grabbing a breakfast bar.

 

The doorbell rang just as he finished eating, and Yuuri made his way to the front door after tossing the wrapper in the trash. He opened the door and was confronted with an enormous [bouquet of flowers](https://www.ftd.com/centerpieces-pcg/the-ftd-love-honor-arrangement/occasion-wedding-centerpieces-new/w56-5114/) held by a young man dressed in the uniform of a national florist franchise.

 

“Yuuri Katsuki?” he asked as well as he could around the mass of flowers that were swathed in protective plastic.

 

“Yes, that’s me,” Yuuri confirmed cautiously, curious but already suspecting who the flowers were from.

 

“Great. These are for you.. but uh, I’ll need a signature so is there somewhere I can put these down for you?”

 

“Oh, yeah, sure. Just come this way.” Yuuri directed him to the kitchen where the delivery guy looked relieved to finally be rid of his burden. Yuuri gave him his signature, and sent him happily on his way before returning to the kitchen and staring at the bouquet, slightly gobsmacked. The only description for the explosion of colour and pollen currently dominating his kitchen was _extra._

 

After staring bewildered for a moment he finally plucked the envelope from the bouquet. He noted immediately that the writing was unfamiliar; however, he certainly recognized the author - there was only one person he knew that was so cheesy.

 

> My dearest Yuuri,
> 
> Congratulations on a job well done! You almost won our game this time. I’m sorry though, moya lyubov, I can’t let you win yet, and especially not this particular match. Do take special care when it comes to my competitors, and if you can, I suggest you don’t let news of our recent competition get out. They’re still looking for a good match and they’re not just in it for the title of winner.
> 
> Oh, and don’t worry, what was once lost has now been found and is safely at home.
> 
> Yours, always
> 
>  

Yuuri stared at the words - though unsigned, so clearly from Victor - and wondered what the motivation was behind the message. Shoving the card back in the envelope to think about later, he finished uncovering the extravagant mass of flowers masquerading as a bouquet. He snorted as he looked it over, thinking how much like Victor the flowers were - unexpected, excessive, and beautiful. Discarding the plastic, he made his way to the office.

 

He entered the office without pause, giving Phichit a half hearted wave in acknowledgement as he settled behind his desk and shoved the note from Victor in his desk drawer. They had chosen a minimalist look for the room originally, the furniture sparse and utilitarian and the walls a neutral grey. But over the years both whiteboards and smart boards had taken over the walls and were covered in scribbles, notes and drawings, additional tables had made their way into the room to provide Phichit with surfaces for all of his electronics. Now the room resembled something of a mad tech scientist’s lab, but studded with photos of art, sculpture and other treasures that they had been tasked to find. Yuuri loved it. He loved the chaos that was their combined creativity and brainpower. They had done amazing work in his room, and being there never failed to motivate him even more.

 

They began by reviewing the latest information in the Just Judges investigation, which was… nothing. Even though they had managed to get close, they ran into a dead end when they found the car Victor had been using. Obviously he had escaped by train, but the train station was where the trail ended. Yuuri was positive that he had spotted Victor on camera. His eyes may have been hidden by sunglasses, and his hair by a hat, but he would recognize that form anywhere. Not that he would admit that last bit to Phichit… However, aside from his own familiarity with Victor, there was nothing else to suggest that the man was indeed him. The footage from nearby stations was still being reviewed, though neither of them expected to find anything more.

 

The buyer, or rather, the buyer’s representatives that Victor had met had also scattered to the wind. Once they had tracked down Victor’s vehicle they had begun by searching the standard search radius, and within that radius they were pretty certain they had found the location of the exchange. From the limited tracks they found at the scene they had determined there were only two vehicles; however they had been unable to identify the second vehicle, or even how many people had been involved, and thus had come to an impasse.

 

“Honestly, Yuuri, I think if you are correct that the buyer was probably someone from the Belgian royal family, it’s probably a good thing that there isn’t any more evidence.” Phichit was leaning back in his chair, arms behind his head and eyes closed. “Let’s put this on the backburner for now and see what it is that has Minako so riled up.” He sat up, opening his eyes, and reached for his keyboard.

 

“Sounds good,” Yuuri concurred, turning back to his email. “I can’t imagine why Minako would need to book a meeting with us.” Minako had been Yuuri’s mentor, a family friend who had recognized and encouraged Yuuri’s skills, and pushed him to accept a job at Interpol. She had also helped guide him through his early years before he became established in his specialty. She, herself, worked for the organized crime unit, so their paths didn’t cross that often these days.

 

Yuuri and Phichit scrolled through Minako’s email and attached briefing note, both silent as they focused. They both took a few minutes, processing the information and the implications.

 

“So,” Yuuri spoke up, “Yakov’s group appears to be dabbling in politically sensitive matters again.” Though they specialized in art and lost treasures, they made sure to keep up with the latest in politics and crime trends. One never knew when the knowledge would come in handy.

 

“Mmmm,” Phichit responded, “they must be working for their government again in exchange for officials overlooking some other part of their operations.”

 

It had happened before - a slew of crimes and art and treasure thefts that seemed to be politically motivated in favour of the Russian government (or its close allies). Yuuri had long since lost his naivety, but he still remembered how shocked he had been when he’d discovered that governments often turned to organized crime groups to handle certain situations and keep their hands clean. But since then he had learned to accept that nothing in the world was truly black and white, especially when it came to politics and morality. He himself worked the grey area more often than not.

 

Minako’s group had identified several crimes that seemed to be linked to Yakov. So far all of them appeared to be convenient assassinations and some black market deals. But it appeared from the trend that his group’s activities were escalating. Not that that was any concern of Yuuri’s, per se, since it wasn’t his area, but Minako’s group suspected that Yakov had people out looking for certain treasures, one of which being the Just Judges.

 

Yuuri gasped in shock, jumping to his feet, hands gripping his desk in front of him. It couldn’t be, he thought. Victor couldn’t be talking about…

 

“Earth to Yuuri!” Phichit called as he waved his hand in front of Yuuri’s now pale face. “What brilliant conclusion have you come to?”

 

“I think… I think Victor is warning me about Yakov. He wants him to think the buyer is still looking for the Just Judges.”

 

“What?How do you figure that? There’s nothing definitive that’s ever connected that theft to Yakov.”

 

Yuuri sheepishly pulled out Victor’s card from where he’d stashed it and handed it to Phichit. “This arrived this morning. With, uh... some flowers.”

 

“Flowers, huh? And when were you going to tell me about this, Yuuri?” he chastised, raising his eyebrows as he read the card. “This is important!!! And it’s evidence!”

 

“I plan to trace the flowers, but I’ll guarantee there’s no physical evidence on that card. I don’t believe for a second that he’s in Detroit, and that is not his handwriting. It was probably just dictated to the florist who wrote it down. And there’s nothing definitive in it that links it to the Luxembourg matter. I don’t know that I would consider it evidence.”

 

Phichit snorted in disbelief. “Ok, Yuuri. I’ll let you play that game for now, but only if you promise that you tell me about these things immediately. We’re partners, and it’s downright dangerous to keep things like this from each other!”

 

Yuuri lowered his gaze to stare at his hands. He knew Phichit was right. It was just… he didn’t want to be teased as Phichit was bound to do… and part of him didn’t want to share Victor with anyone. The last was a confusing thought that he didn’t yet have the courage to face. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

 

Phichit sighed, the very specific sigh he used when he was letting Yuuri ignore something he really should deal with. “Ok, Yuuri, I accept your apology. For now. If something else comes up, though, you can bet we’re revisiting this conversation.” He paused until Yuuri acknowledged him with a nod. “Well, for now, let’s review the information we have on Yakov and anything he might be interested in within the areas Minako mentioned. After all, when it comes to Minako, it pays to be well prepared.”

 

Yuuri smiled in silent agreement and pulled up a file. “Let’s start by reviewing Yakov’s current known main operatives…”

 

~~~~~~

 

A mere three weeks after receiving Minako’s message, they received an urgent summons to Kazakhstan where Minako was apparently working on a case. They’d been given no details, which was not unexpected, but knew that the urgency and location of the summons meant that something had happened that required Minako to travel to the field.

 

Rather than try to guess the circumstances that had brought them there, Yuuri spent the few moments he had to himself marvelling at the architecture in Astana as they headed to meet Minako at the Kazakhstan National Central Bureau. The city was an unexpected mix of the very modern; sleek, shiny office towers and complexes mixed almost haphazardly with old world architecture. It made him almost dizzy as they sped through the streets.

 

From Minako’s rather uninformative briefing, it looked like the case was going to be particularly nasty. Minako’s group had been following the movements of Yakov’s organization, and the last while there had been a lot of activity in Petropavl, a city just south of the Russian border. However, it seemed that they had found what they were looking for and left quite a gruesome crime scene in their wake. So gruesome that both Yuuri and Phichit were thankful that it had taken them around 24 hours to arrive - they were spared having to attend the crime scene at its most gruesome. Minako hadn’t included much detail in her briefing note, and they assumed that the matter must be particularly sensitive… as it almost always was when they were called in.

 

The sun glinted harshly off the glass encased office complex they had arrived at, and would have been blinding if not for the car’s tinted windows. Entering the building they found Minako already waiting for them at the security desk.

 

“Yuuri, Phichit,” Minako smiled tiredly as she greeted them, “am I ever glad to see the two of you!” She led them to a large conference room on the mezzanine level that had been adapted to accommodate the investigation team. It was buzzing with activity, some agents pouring over their laptops, while others furiously updated the smart board that dominated one side of the room. They sat down at one end of the table, carefully moving the stacks of paper that had migrated from where the agents were working so diligently.

 

“Ok,” Minako started, her voice low so as not to disturb the others’ work, “I know you must have a lot of questions. First I’ll lay out what I couldn’t put in the briefing, then feel free to ask away.” She paused, and Yuuri and Phichit nodded their agreement before she continued. “As I’d mentioned, we have spotted quite a number of persons known to be either currently or previously affiliated with Yakov in Petropavl and the surrounding area. At the same time, there have been an uptick in reports of intruders on farmland situated around the city, though no actual break-ins, just people reporting intruders on their land.”

 

“We couldn’t make out what they were doing at first,” she continued, “It didn’t seem as if they were planting or retrieving some sort of illicit shipment, for example. The movements were too erratic to be part of a coordinated plan. We finally came to the conclusion that they were searching for something, and my first thought was to contact you to get an idea if what they could be looking for. Though there is so much lost treasure in these parts, it could be anything, but knowing it was Yakov’s group, I was expecting it to be politically motivated somehow. Or, his other typical target, something highly valuable.”

 

“But before I could contact you, it seems his group acted. Yesterday at 8:07 am, the local police received an emergency call from one of the city’s more prominent families reporting a violent break in and theft.” Minako paused to take a sip from the mug she hadn’t let go of since she’d met them. Yuuri eyed her more closely and saw the telltale puffiness around her eyes that indicated she hadn’t slept in a quite a while. Although makeup could - and did - do wonders, Yuuri always knew what to look for in his old mentor.

 

“This one was violent even for Yakov, at least as far as innocents getting caught in the crossfire,” she continued blearily, her shoulders which had been hitched up in tension slumping in frustration. “As mentioned in the briefing note, a total of eleven dead. Ten staff and one of the family members. From what we can tell, it was actually a small contingent that broke in. There have been a lot of Yakov’s men in the area, but all evidence points to this being a small operation despite the casualties. Also of note, I don’t think these were Yakov’s usual men. The crime scene was… messy. No evidence that the thieves actually knew how to aim a gun. They compensated for that with the amount of bullets.” Yuuri and Phichit both winced at that, immediately understanding how traumatic this had to have been for everyone involved.

 

“And the target?” Yuuri asked, unable to keep quiet any longer, his curiosity demanding to be satisfied.

 

“Gold,” Minako replied simply. “Boxes and boxes of gold.”

 

“Gold?” Yuuri confirmed, startled. At Minako’s nod, he jumping up, slapping his hand on the conference table, and bellowed, “So you’re telling me that after all this time, they found Kolchak’s gold?”

 

The room instantly went silent, everyone frozen mid action, buzzing phones completely ignored as attention focussed intently on Yuuri.

 

Minako just cackled loudly, somehow looking both incredulous yet unsurprised at the same time. “I should have known that you would be able to figure it out immediately. We’ve been at a loss trying to figure out why it was there and why Yakov would be after it, never mind how on earth he would even know to look for it. The family is being particularly uncooperative - although I did get the impression that only the current heir knew the real nature of what was in the boxes they were storing. ‘Family heirlooms’ is what most of them called it.”

 

Yuuri reddened slightly under the intense scrutiny he was still receiving from Minako’s team. “Well, it couldn’t be anything else,” he declared confidently. “Your description fits perfectly. Although this area of Europe is known to be a literal treasure trove of buried treasure because of the late development of a banking system, it’s highly unlikely that the lost fortune of a single family would be enough to capture Yakov’s attention. Kolchak’s gold, however… that would be quite the political statement to retrieve, not to mention the amount. It’s estimated to be worth $4 billion USD.”

 

Minako whistled, low and long. “Well, that certainly explains the use of force. They’d actually almost finished removing it from the cellar of the mansion when they were spotted. Quite frankly, I’m still amazed they even attempted it with only a small party. It would have gone a lot more quickly for them if they’d had more manpower. Gold is heavy.”

 

Yuuri sat down slowly, already trying to process the new information. “And it wasn’t just gold, but other currencies too…” he tapered off, lost in his thoughts. “So fascinating though… no one figured it would be in Kazakhstan… there’s been some rumblings about the former Czechoslovakia, but I hadn’t heard any rumours that it would be in this area.” He considered the theories that had been put forward. “I suppose it isn’t that far from the locations most speculated about. Though when that historian traced the records, it looked pretty certain it had actually all been sent abroad and accounted for…” Yuuri continued to mutter to himself, though quietly, and Phichit and Minako exchanged fond looks, used to Yuuri’s habits as they were.

 

“M-m-m-m-inako?” A short young man with bright yellow hair and a fire engine red streak stuttered out as he approached the trio cautiously.

 

“What is it Ken?” she replied and the young man shrank back somewhat looking nervous. Minako lifted a brow slightly at the sight. “Well, come on then, Ken, no need to be shy. This is agent Katsuki and agent Chulanont from the Art and Artifact Division… or rather I guess they are the Art and Artifact Division… bloody budget cuts.”

 

Yuuri watched with concern as the young man - Ken - became an alarming shade of red while Minako was speaking and bounced on his toes. From anticipation, excitement or horror, Yuuri couldn’t discern.

 

“Oh-yes-I-know-who-Yuuri-is-I-mean-we’ve-spoken-and-who-doesn’t-know-who-Yuuri-is-and-omg-I-can’t-believe-he’s-actually-here-and-oh-sorry-you-too-Phichit-hi!” Ken spit out at raceneck speed, barely intelligible in his enthusiasm.

 

Minako chuckled, “Looks like you have an admirer, Yuuri. You’re lucky, Ken, most of us don’t get to see this duo in action very often.” Ken nodded vehemently in response, still vibrating with what Yuuri now recognized as excitement.

 

Before Yuuri attempted an awkward response, Phichit jumped in to salvage the situation. “Kenjiro, nice to see you again! I don’t think you’ve met Yuuri in person.” Kicking Yuuri’s leg under the table, Phichit continued, “Yuuri, you course remember Ken, we spoke with him a few months back after returning from Luxembourg.”

 

Right. The analysis on the hair. He silently thanked Phichit for his quick thinking. “Uh, right, of course... so Ken, nice to meet you. Um, you had something to report to Minako?”

 

“Oh! Yes!” And with that, Ken visibly reigned himself in and donned a more professional demeanour as he turned to Minako. “The targets we were watching have started to scatter, as you expected, ma’am. We are still tracing their movements, but it appears so far that at least a group of them are returning to Russia. The rest are traveling individually from what we can tell.”

 

“Where in Russia?” Minako asked, deep in thought and tapping a finger to her lips as she cocked her head at Ken.

 

“All the ones we traced to Russia went west, towards Kugan,” Ken supplied, looking pleased that he had the details.

 

Yuuri frowned in concentration, rapidly thinking over the reports that Minako had sent, and what he knew of the current situation in Russia. “They’re headed to Omsk,” he asserted.

 

“Why Omsk?” Minako inquired, truly curious and again unsurprised by Yuuri’s abrupt declaration. Yuuri appreciated the fact that she just accepted as a fact that he’d have an opinion, and would be able to back up his hypothesis with a solid theory. In his early career he’d dealt with too many that thought because of his age or specialty that he wouldn’t be able to contribute. Many even took his often awkwardly blurted hypotheses as wild guesses; blatant attempts to be noticed by the higher ups. But Minako knew him better, and knew that he only spoke up when he was sure of himself. He’d spent years trying to overcome the critics and naysayers that looked at his ‘babyface’ and gave little to no credit to his intelligence.

 

He’d since proven his worth -over and over again - if Phichit’s enthusiastic stories could be believed, but still those early years had left a mark on him. Despite all his accomplishments and the trust his superiors placed in him, there was always a part of him that felt like a fraud; a part of him believed the whispered voices of his early years that called him a child, said he would never amount to anything because he was too weak, and thought his near savant’s memory of history was bizarre rather than useful.

 

Mentally shaking himself out of his self doubt (which he would more than likely wallow in later), he collected himself to answer Minako in the only way she would accept: succinct, definitive and certain. “Yes, Omsk,” he nodded to emphasize his words, “that’s the most likely destination. They’ll head west, cross the border, then divert to Ishim, doubling back east to Omsk from there. Omsk has a history with Kolchak’s gold. That’s the most likely place from which they would have coordinated the search. You’ve uncovered the Kazakh operation, but I can guarantee there were many more on Russian soil, and the only headquarters for such an operation would be in Omsk.”

 

Yuuri paused, taking a deep breath before delivering the last of his deductions, knowing that the statement he was about to make was the least certain of the bunch. He exhaled slowly, then said in a soft voice, “And that’s where you’ll find the gold. It’s the only possible place they could have taken it to with the hope of transporting it quickly.”

 

“The Trans-Siberian Railway...” Minako whispered and her eyes went wide, though she was quick to conceal her reaction. She stood up, swivelling to face her staff and barked out instructions, “You will continue to monitor all movements of the targets. However, I want additional surveillance on every entrance to Omsk. That includes every traffic camera, and every public camera we have access to. I also want agents on the ground immediately. We need to ensure that the gold does not make it out.It’s not even four hours to Omsk from Petropavl and it’s been days already since they got away.” She abruptly clapping her hands after each word for emphasis, “Look alive people. MAKE. THIS. HAPPEN.”

 

After a beat of silence, the room began buzzing with agents talking on their phones, carrying out Minako’s instructions. The trio remained silent amidst the chatter, deep in thought and marvelling at the revelation, each for their own reasons.

 

Yuuri finally broke the silence. “I can’t believe after all this time it’s finally been found. You said that you had the impression that the heir knew what was in the boxes. I assume you’ve interviewed the family regarding the history of those boxes, even if they didn’t know what was in them?” he directed the last bit towards Minako.

 

Minako shook her head, coming out of her own musings. “Of course we did. No one knew anything. The answers ranged from ‘they’ve been there forever’ with an accompanying shrug to ‘ew the cellar is creepy I would never go down there so how would I know?’ I had in mind to look into it further, but the crew has been too busy processing the scene.”

 

Yuuri nodded, then asked with some hesitation, “I don’t want to be seen as interfering in your investigation, but would it be ok if Phichit and I conducted some interviews of our own? I would, of course, give you a full report.”

 

Minako huffed laugh and reached over to ruffle Yuuri’s hair. “You’re kidding right?” she asked, somewhat incredulous. “You’re the expert, Yuuri. That’s why I brought you in to begin with, so _of course_ I don’t mind. Quite the contrary, if you didn’t suggest it yourself, I’d have to beg you to help me out. I mean you’ve been here, what - 15 minutes? And already managed to tell us the origin of what was stolen and give us a solid location to follow up on. If I’d been on my own we wouldn’t have even a chance of figuring this out. You saw yourself when you arrived that we’ve been floundering about uselessly!” Minako sat back heavily in her chair, her back connecting with some force as she shed some frustration.

 

Yuuri smiled bashfully at his mentor, not entirely comfortable with the praise. He was proud of all that he had achieved, and of his reputation, but he still didn’t believe at times that his accomplishments were really his. “Well, I’m just glad I was able to contribute. But all of this is still just conjecture until we actually find the treasure. And speaking of which, Phichit and I should get going - time is not on our side here.”

 

As the trio rose to leave, Phichit piped up, “Can you send me the best photos of the men you’ve been tracking? I can put it through a program I developed to mine social media photos. You’d be amazed what a treasure trove of information social media has become. It won’t be instant, but I should have at least something by late tonight.”

 

Minako nodded, leading them out of the room. “Absolutely. That’s one type of data mining we are just starting to get familiar with. Your help would really be appreciated. Oh, and before I forget, standard communication protocols are in place, and I haven’t changed my reporting procedures. So you’ll get our latest, just as I expect yours.”

 

They said their goodbyes upon reaching the main doors. Minako gave Yuuri a friendly, though forceful punch to the shoulder. “Hey, don’t be such a stranger, kiddo!” Yuuri smiled in response, and with that the two agents were on their way to Petropavl.

 

~~~~~~

 

It had been a short flight to Petropavl, not even an hour, but between plane schedules and the time it took to make the necessary arrangements it was dinnertime before they found themselves back on the ground. They had arranged to meet one of Minako’s team at a restaurant not too far from the crime scene, and after a quick meal they would discuss the plan of action on their way to the mansion.

 

Shortly before they had taken off Phichit had received the stills of Yakov’s men, and immediately used his tablet to download the file to his personal server back in Detroit where the program he had created was located. The few hours it would take before it produced enough data for Phichit to analyze would allow them both to fully concentrate on the task at hand, and for that, Yuuri was grateful. Although he had exuded confidence earlier and had announced his suspicions like they were foregone conclusions, he was plagued with self doubt. It had seemed so obvious to him - both the treasure and where the perpetrators were headed. And if it was so obvious to him, shouldn’t it be to others? But it hadn’t been; instead, to his shock, they had regarded him as if he was omniscient, and accepted his conclusions as fact. And he was confident in his conclusions, but the fact that no one had even suspected or suggested something along the same lines made him question himself.

 

Deep in his thoughts, he neglected to notice that Phichit had been talking to him while their cab made its way to the designated restaurant.

 

“Earth to Yuuri!” Phichit chirped, waving his hand in front of Yuuri’s eyes. Phichit at this point was used to him and his moods, and took everything in stride rather than get offended as many others would.

 

“Ah, sorry, Phichit. I was just thinking.”

 

Phichit rolled his eyes. “No - you’re _overthinking_. And we know nothing good ever comes of that… Relax, Yuuri. You know your stuff, you know you do. And your instinct for these things is almost always right.”

 

Yuuri huffed, “Yeah, almost always. The almost is the problem. After that dramatic declaration I just made I’m never going to live it down if I’m wrong.”

 

“Yuuri…” Phichit sighed. He was used to dealing with his friend and partner’s moods and self deprecating manner, but sometimes it was just a little too much, if he was honest. “You’re worrying too much again. Minako said they had no clue. At least you’ve given them a direction, a hypothesis to work from. Even if it’s wrong, it’s more than they had before and it’s something they can at least work towards verifying or eliminating. You heard Minako, they were just fumbling around in the dark.”

 

“I’m sorry, you’re right Phichit,” Yuuri acknowledged, smiling slightly at long last. “I was getting wrapped up in my head again. If I just look at the facts, there really isn’t any other answer. People just don’t randomly have boxes of gold in their cellars, and in this region, there’s really a limited number of possibilities unless, of course, it was something that was previously unknown. But with Yakov’s group involved, I highly doubt that. No, they were looking for something specific. So… yeah… ok, I’m probably right.”

 

Yuuri’s eyes were sparkling as they often did when he was determined or searching for an answer, and Phichit knew he was back on track. There was a reason Yuuri had the reputation he did within Interpol and beyond - the man was a true genius and saw patterns where others only saw chaos. His analytical ability combined with his encyclopedic knowledge of art, history and national treasures made Yuuri himself a rare treasure. The flip side to his genius was his anxiety, and while it didn’t come into play nearly as often as it had in the past, Phichit was always watchful, ready to take care of Yuuri when he needed it most.

 

“We’re here,” Yuuri announced as the cab slowed to a stop in front of their destination. “Good thing too, I’m starving!” Phichit nodded in agreement, and the two made their way eagerly into the restaurant.

 

~~~~~~

 

After arriving at the mansion that was the scene of the crime, they were led to a room off the main entrance with tall windows that looked onto the front grounds. Yuuri had no doubt that at one time the view had been resplendent; there was evidence that once the front gardens had been lush, intending to both welcome visitors and remind them of the status of the occupants that had deigned to receive them. Now, however, much of what once had been garden had been taken over by pavement and a modern garage, and the garden that remained was ill-maintained.

 

In contrast to the grounds of the mansion, the room itself retained much of the splendour it would have had 100 years past. Rich wood panels polished to a perfect sheen adorned the two walls not given over to windows. The windows themselves were framed by rich draperies, thick silken ropes and posh tassels pinning them back from the windows themselves. The furniture is what showed the age of the room, the once plush settee they were seated on evidence of hundreds, perhaps thousands of visitors over the last century.

 

While Yuuri looked around curiously, absently dating and evaluating the artwork and sculpture in the room, Phichit kept himself absorbed in his tablet looking at the data that had come through so far. “Well, we have a few possible hits, but it’s going more slowly than I’d like. It’s probably going to take until the wee hours of the morning until I get enough data to do a decent triangulation.”

 

Yuuri snapped back to attention, “And what do you see so far??”

 

Phichit replied rather triumphantly,“Initial results suggest your hypothesis about Omsk is probably right. No surprise there. So far I’ve got two guys confirmed at locations that are East of where Minako had last located them, so they’re likely headed towards Omsk. As soon as I start getting the data from traffic and security cameras in Omsk from Minako, I’ll add those to the mix. Assuming we get it tonight, the program should finish the analysis by morning.”

 

“That’s great, Phichit! Hopefully you’ll find something we can use to narrow the search.”

 

“Oh, I’m sure of it…” Phichit trailed off as a well dressed elderly man was led into the room.

 

He sat down carefully in the armchair across from them. Despite the fear he must have felt and the pain from the loss of life the household had suffered, the only sign of it was in the pale pallor of his skin and the exhaustion etched on his features “Good evening, I’m Artur Kozlov, I was told to expect you, Mr….”

 

“Katsuki, Yuuri Katsuki. And this is my partner Phichit. We are both from the Art and Artifact Division of Interpol, and have been called in by agent Okukawa to assist in the investigation.” They both rose to shake hands with Mr. Kozlov, who now had a knowing glint in his eyes.

 

“I know you have already been interviewed, and I apologize for taking up more of your time in what must be a very difficult time for you and your family,” Yuuri continued, “but we have some additional questions regarding the contents of the boxes that were stolen.”

 

Mr. Kozlov smiled back, a tight, insincere smile that said volumes about his willingness to cooperate. “Of course,” he replied, “I’ll help out in anyway I can…”

 

~~~~~~

 

After interviewing the uncooperative head of the household, the two had spoken to several of the family members and staff. In the end, it was Mrs. Kozlov that had provided the information that they needed most. As was typical in many societies, the women were the ones that tracked genealogy. And while Mrs. Kozlov had no idea what the contents of those boxes were, she certainly knew where their descendants were from. And they were from Yekaterinburg, but had been forced to move south because “obviously,” she had said, rolling her eyes. She had also spoken of the head of the main branch of the family, who was the original owner of the manor, and who had died before he could leave heirs, but whose death brought great honour to their family.

 

It wasn’t much, but Yuuri smiled, nonetheless. He was sure that, assuming he could find the proper records, he would find the name of the previous owner of the property associated with the white army.

 

It was late and he and Phichit were settled into their double room in a hotel in nearby Petropavl. It wasn’t much, but it was clean and well cared for and at the end of the day Yuuri was just glad of the cleanliness. He and Phichit had had to stay in much, much worse places in the past. This one could almost be called homey with its quaint decor and obviously being a family business.

 

Yuuri stretched as he laid on his narrow bed, contemplating all the information they had so far. It looked like he was right, at least as far as the treasure was concerned. There was some information that could lead to the conclusion that they’d find their thief in Omsk, but nothing definitive. As he lay there he idly let his thoughts slip back to Victor, still wondering about the last case. He was certain now that the panel was back with the royal family of Belgium, and more certain that the public would remain ignorant of the fact for at least another generation.

 

But why had Victor felt the need to warn him like he did? Why did he essentially confess to Yuuri? And why did he seem so nervous? He mentally shook his head. Victor was an enigma, no matter how often he contemplated the man. …which was an occurrence that was more frequent than was called for by his _job_. Though he’d never admit it to Phichit, he knew he was drawn to Victor for some other reason - a reason that went beyond the chase between cop and criminal, or predator and prey. Somehow in that narrow hallway in Boston the two had made a connection, and as corny as it would sound to speak the words out loud, Yuuri knew them to be true. He was as drawn to Victor as Victor seemed to be drawn to him. Two moths to a flame; oil and water - it just couldn’t end well.

 

Yet…

 

Yet, he didn’t care. After seeing the vulnerability, the uncertainty in those eyes, all Yuuri wanted to do is offer reassurance, help if needed, but above all, to be a safe place for Victor.

 

For all that Victor projected confidence, Yuuri could see the pain and the fear lurking behind the confidence and cockiness that Victor consciously tried to portray. And a certain selflessness, as if there was someone else that he needed to protect no matter what the cost.

 

 

What Yuuri saw reflected in those ocean blue eyes was a plea from a broken man who hid behind his skills and his ‘job’. A man who was looking for a way out; looking for someone to take his hand and show him the path he was supposed to lead, should have lead… before it was that some unknown tragedy forced its detour.

 

_Ha_ , Yuuri thought, giving himself a mental shake, now you’re _really_ romanticizing the whole encounter. Internally scolding himself, he forced himself to relax and drift off. The next few days he’d need the rest to be on the top of his game.

 

~~~~~~

 

They woke shortly after 4 am to the blaring of an alert from Phichit’s tablet. Yuuri sat up and rubbed his eyes blearily while Phichit jumped out of his bed to retrieve his tablet with all his usual energy. Yuuri shook his head, unable to comprehend how anyone could have that much energy immediately upon waking, especially at this early hour. Yawning, he bowed to the inevitable and go up to splash some water on his face.

 

While Phichit was occupied analyzing the data that had come through, Yuuri made himself useful by digging out the kettle and tea they always carried while traveling. Both had learned the hard way that with their jobs is was a necessity to have access to caffeine at all hours. Coffee would have been better, but the room didn’t have the amenities, and tea would do in a pinch.

 

Sitting back on the bed he let himself drift as he listened to the soft hiss of the water as it heated. Phichit remained silent, his focus entirely on his tablet, which boded well, Yuuri thought.Evidently there was enough in the analysis that had come back to keep even Phichit silent. Excitement started to simmer in his gut as he thought about their next steps.

 

He made the tea when the water was ready and let the caffeine slowly thaw his mind while he began to get ready. Phichit had been silent, not even acknowledging the tea Yuuri had placed beside him, though he drank it eagerly enough to demonstrate he was at least somewhat aware of his surroundings.

 

Finally he set the tablet down and looked up at Yuuri, a wide grin that looked almost predatory adorning his face. “Yuuri,” he started, voice low but with an unmistakable quiver of excitement, “I think we’ve got them. In Omsk, just as you predicted.”

 

Yuuri raised an eyebrow, knowing Phichit was holding back on something. “And… what else Phichit? You look like the cat that swallowed the canary.”

 

“I have a confirmed visual of Otabek taken at the airport off someone’s social media. It’s at a bit of a distance, but the program gave it an 85% match.”

 

Yuuri whistled. “85%... and knowing this is Yakov’s group, itmight as well be 100%.”

 

“Yakov’s enforcer,” Phichit nodded as he responded, “Given the circumstances there is no way that it is NOT him. We need to call Minako and get ourselves to Omsk ASAP. No flights, so we’re looking at a little over three and a half hour drive.”

 

“I’m on it. Get ready and finish packing while I’m on the phone. I’ll see if I can get the guy from last night to drive us. And you can work on getting us a better idea of where they might be holed up on the drive.”

 

Phichit jumped up, giving Yuuri a mock salute. “Aye, aye, captain! We’ve got some bad guys to catch!”

 

Yuuri’s only response was to roll his eyes at Phichit’s dramatics as he dialled Minako’s number.

 

~~~~~~

 

Yuuri barely paid attention to the blurred scenery that was speeding past on their way to Omsk. It was only 7:30 in the morning - they had left Petropavl a little after 5:00, the agent that had accompanied them the night before once again playing the role of cabby. Minako had also instructed the other agents she’d sent ahead to meet them as soon as they arrived at the headquarters of the local law enforcement. Minako herself was catching a flight from Astana, though she wouldn’t arrive until later that afternoon due to flight schedules. If they stayed on schedule, they would arrive shortly before 9 which was perfect timing to pick up something for breakfast and more caffeine.

 

Glorious caffeine.

 

He glanced back at Phichit who had taken up the back seat, laptop and tablet beside him and a notepad on his lap. He was deep in concentration, having received additional information from Minako and his own program. Yuuri supposed he should also make good use of the travel time, so leaning his head against the window which carried the chill of the morning air, he closed his eyes and went back to analyzing everything they knew so far.

 

~~~~~~

 

Blinking his eyes in an attempt to shake the haze of sleep, Yuuri looked at his phone and noted they were about 30 minutes out from Omsk. Phichit’s excited voice, which must have been what roused him to begin with, chirped again. “Yuuri! We’ve got confirmation! I have a still shot of one of the men Minako was following in Omsk with Otabek.So now it’s definitive! You were bang on.”

 

At that, Yuuri was instantly awake. “What’s the date on the visual? Are we too late?” Yuuri’s mind was racing despite having just woke up, trying to quickly identify the best and worst case scenarios.

 

“Last night - after the first image, not before. They’re not too far from the airport. It’s a traffic camera, Otabek’s in the passenger seat.”

 

“So since that’s after the one at the airport, he’s probably being picked up and not leaving - meaning he just got there last night. That’s a good sign. Send the info to Minako - we need to know where this other guy was spotted previously. And send me the location and I’ll start looking at where they might have been headed.”

 

“On it!”

 

They both went to work on their tasks, the only sound coming from the dull purr of the engine. The agent driving them had remained silent through all of their discussions, though Yuuri knew he had been paying close attention. He was sure Minako’s agents would be of great assistance once everyone had arrived in Omsk and could get better organized.

 

After another 20 minutes had passed, Phichit spoke up again, “In addition to processing everything I got from Minako, I’ve been setting up searches on Otabek. Since Minako said that they hadn’t spotted Otabek in Petropavl, I want to conduct another search, focussing on airports on his previously known haunts, hoping to spot where he was in the time leading up to the theft. I was thinking if we knew where he was right before the theft it might help us predict where the ultimate destination is. Just in case we miss them in Omsk.”

 

“Good thinking, Phichit. It’s quite possible that they could have already shipped it off. Find anything yet?”

 

“Well, actually, yes,” Phichit replied almost hesitantly, as if he wasn’t quite sure he could trust what he was looking at. “To be honest I lucked out.I had asked for Minako to send whatever footage she could, or at least access to it. But that takes time of course. So while I waited for something from Minako, I ran some of the data we collected in Luxembourg and started mining social media. If you recall, even though we don’t have a good enough digital visual on Victor, as part of the investigation I ran programs for suspected associates of his in the surrounding countries. Otabek wasn’t originally in that search, so I just added his likeness to the search I already had programmed. And... bingo. It looks like Otabek’s been spending a lot of time in Switzerland lately, and he’s not been attempting to hide his movements.. Most recently in Geneva, but he’s been Zurich, Lausanne, Bern, Lucerne… But here’s the thing… I also have a hit in Luxembourg.”

 

Yuuri raised his eyebrows at that. “Sounds like he’s been conducting some sort of search of his own. Is Minako aware of this?”

 

“She is now. And she’s really starting to get concerned about Yakov’s group and what their long term goal is. Don’t be surprised if she starts picking your brain about what is so special in Switzerland.”

 

Yuuri snorted. “It’s Switzerland. I think if Yakov’s group is snooping around there, it’s either making financial arrangements or looking for someone who _did_ make financial arrangements”

 

“So like someone who defected?”

 

“More likely someone who betrayed Yakov. Although by all appearances he’s been working for the government lately, and we’re talking about Otabek. He’s Yakov’s enforcer. Like a party whip in politics. I doubt he’d send Otabek after anyone or anything other than a traitor.”

 

Phichit chewed on his lip thoughtfully. “So, likely nothing to do with us then.”

 

“I highly doubt it. Ok, let’s get back to the case at hand. So we know that Otabek wasn’t involved in the actual crime.” Yuuri sat back, huffing out a breath of air and rubbing his eyes. He was still exhausted. The sleepless nights and back to back assignments were really starting to wear on him.

 

“But he must have been at least overseeing it,” Phichit hypothesized. “There’s no other reason for him to be meeting with the perp.”

 

“He’s probably ensuring the safe transport to Yakov, making sure no one takes a cut of it for themselves. After all, the exact amount of gold and currency isn’t known. It would be easy for someone to take a little for themselves. As I said, he’s their internal enforcer. So it makes sense.”

 

“Wow, Yuuri,” Phichit said, shaking his head. “We are so lucky for the time you spent in Minako’s unit. We’d never be able to piece together half our cases if it weren’t for that.”

 

Yuuri offered a half smile in return. “It _has_ come in handy,” he admitted. “I’m grateful for the training and the experience. But to be honest, I’m much happier where we are now. Some of the things the organized crime group has to deal with…” Yuuri shuddered in remembrance.

 

Phichit reached out and squeezed his shoulder in understanding. “I can’t imagine, to be honest. I have a hard enough time with the crime scenes we do deal with, and we’re lucky most of the time the worst case is a security guard taken out by a sniper.” His face crumpled as he remembered the remnants of the scene they had just left. Despite his ever cheerful demeanour, Phichit was really quite sensitive. He was so thankful that they had managed to avoid the worst of the scene. The remaining blood stains had been more than enough to raise the bile in his throat.

 

“Alright, so next steps. What now?” Yuuri asked, eyes warm with thanks for the reassurance his friend and partner had offered.

 

“Now, we set up a war room, get as many people as we can from the local law enforcement ready, and when the visuals come in, triangulate and move in,” Phichit replied firmly.

 

Yuuri acknowledged his response with a sharp nod, determination glinting in the hard edge of his gaze. “Got it Peach. Let’s get this done.”

 

~~~~~~

 

Yuuri sat tensely in the war room they’d set up while Phichit commanded the agents they’d been given. Although he was still keyed up, he was much more relaxed than he had been. He always enjoyed seeing his best friend in his element, and it was rather a relief to have the focus off of himself.

 

As he watched, Phichit suddenly looked up, his voice triumphant, “I’ve got a visual on Otabek,” he announced. “Oh...this isn’t good,” he continued as his face fell. “He’s at the airport again. He must be headed out of the city.”

 

“Where??? Can we get a visual on the departures? Is he alone? Did we get him with anyone?” Yuuri demanded.

 

“Hold on....” Phichit’s eyes blazed as his fingers raced across the keyboard of his laptop and the touch screen of his monitor. “Shit. All we have is the one shot. Without agents on the ground there, we’re never going to get a destination for him.”

 

“Well, don’t be disappointed, Peach. I really think he was just doing the enforcer thing here. I can’t imagine he’s following the treasure home. And, he’s alone, right?”

 

“Looks that way.”

 

“Then our guy is still here, and that is who we focus on. That’s who will lead us to the crates. But we’re out of time. If Otabek is leaving he believes the treasure is secured. Pass the photo of the guy that was with Otabek on to all other agents. We need feet on the ground. I suggest we start on all rail yards. Peach, we need to get more info on the guy Otabek was with. Any traffic cameras getting the car would be the most helpful right now.”

 

Phichit nodded and the two got to work, with Phichit focusing on inputting new search instructions and Yuuri organizing their team. After a few terse commands, the majority of agents they had with them rushed out of the building and headed to various rail yards. Unfortunately being the juncture between the northern and southern routes of the Trans Siberian Railway meant that Omsk was a major railway hub and there were many possibilities in different areas of the city with no way to narrow down any likely locations.

 

They were quiet as they focussed on their work, and before they knew it a good thirty minutes had passed. Yuuri was coordinating information as it came in from the teams, marking down the few locations that had been ruled out.

 

“Ok, I think I have narrowed down the area to a workable search radius for a quick and covert sweep,” Phichit said after a few more minutes had passed. “If we’re wrong, we don’t want the activity to alert the suspect as to where we are.”

 

Yuuri nodded, looking at the location displayed on Phichit’s tablet, and they quickly formulated a plan which Yuuri then communicated to the agents who were closest to the target location. That done, they grabbed what they needed and headed out with the remaining agents.

 

Phichit drove while Yuuri stayed glued to the comm line, tersely giving instructions when necessary. They had set up shop at the district police station which meant it was a little over a 20 minute drive to thesuspected location which was just south of the airport. It was a major hub of activity, one which they had initially ranked as lower in probability because it was so busy. That would make it harder for Yakov’s people to move the treasure undetected. But, as Phichit pointed out on the way, sometimes it was easiest to hide in plain site, and the crates themselves didn’t look like anything especially unusual.

 

They were about two minutes away from the area when suddenly a large shout came through the comm, loud enough that Phichit could hear and for Yuuri to instinctively swipe his earpiece off. He grabbed it, shoving it back in his ear and began shouting questions while Phichit stepped harder on the gas.

 

“Peach, the agents have been spotted, the suspect has been engaged. They’re taking him down now. No word yet on whether the crates have been located.” Phichit didn’t react, concentrating on his driving as was necessary. Yuuri took advantage of the few moments he had and drew his handgun, quickly doing a check and disengaging the safety. Over the comm he could hear nothing but chaos as the agents attempted to subdue the suspect. It was an old soundtrack for him, one he had left behind, but also one that he’d never forget the choreography for. He himself had been involved in too many take downs for the instincts to disappear entirely.

 

It was hard to tell exactly what was happening, so Yuuri carefully centered himself, prepared to jump out of the car and join the fray. Adrenalin already pumping, his muscles were poised and ready for the intricate footwork that would evade the inevitable bullets, carry his steps closer to the suspect, and keep him in the shadows until he had cornered his target. He took a deep breath as Phichit pulled close to the building, and when the car slowed enough he launched himself from it, running with silent grace to the nearest building against the backdrop of echoing gunfire. He _would_ capture the suspect. And he _would_ secure the treasure. Any other result was unacceptable.

 

~~~~~~

 

Yuuri swore profusely throwing his empty gun on the ground while Phichit remained uncharacteristically silent. The duo had never lost a suspect like this, though they had come close before. But always they’d been just that one step ahead that enabled them to capture the suspect and make sure they were safely secured.

 

Not this time.

 

Yuuri should have known better - he should have known to gag the suspect immediately when he’d been captured. After all, they’d been following Yakov’s men, and the poison pill in the molar was a signature of Yakov’s Bratva. They’d of course have to wait on the toxicology report, but the method, the manner of death… Yuuri knew what they’d find.

 

Yuuri had seen it before, during his time with Minako. He knew it was painful, the poison designed by Yakov to be an excruciating death as one last punishment to those who had failed and needed the out. He drew a shaky breath in, trying unsuccessfully to steady himself and order his thoughts. Before long his breaths became more and more shallow and frequent until he was panting, unable to regulate his breathing at all. He attempted to glance around but found his surroundings were becoming increasingly blurry and he recognized the disassociation that came with a panic attack. The realization, however, didn’t do a thing to help him out of the situation.

 

He dimly heard Phichit calling his name, turning his head in the direction of the sound but unable to respond in any other way. From a distance he felt Phichit take his hand and place it on his own chest in an attempt to help ground Yuuri and help him to take regular breaths. He was speaking softly too, although his words had no more meaning than the distant hum of the ventilation system. Still, Yuuri and Phichit had been through this together countless times, and Yuuri used what little of his self awareness that was left to focus on the feeling of Phichit’s hand, the rise and fall of his chest and the comforting cadence of his voice.

 

After an indeterminate period of time, Phichit’s voice finally became clear enough for Yuuri to understand what he was saying, and his mouth quirked up in a poor attempt at a smile. Phichit was reciting his own version of ‘the benefits of hamster ownership’ complete with anecdotes dating from his childhood. The familiar topic was the very thing Yuuri needed to pull himself out of his mind and back to the real world. He slowly uncurled himself and sat up straight while keeping his hand on Phichit’s chest.

 

Smiling at his best friend, he said with a voice still rough from emotion, “Thanks, Peach. I’m ok now, it’s just…”

 

His best friend smiled back at him. “I know, Yuuri. There’s a reason you left Minako’s team, and there’s a reason that her team has such a high turn around. I’m glad I’ve never seen what you have. This case is just a taste and it’s just about got me ready to retire.” Phichit smiled at him sadly, the usual light in his eyes missing. “I think we need to go home, regroup. There’s nothing else we can do here in the field - we’ve done more than is in our job description as it is. And we have the gold. Let Minako handle it from here. Let’s go home, Yuuri.”

 

Yuuri looked into his eyes, and seeing the beginning of despair, agreed. “Of course, you’re right Peach. Let’s go home.” He closed his eyes then, tired beyond endurance. Phichit had been exposed to enough, and he owed it to him to shield him from what he could. He’d promised himself long ago he’d never let Phichit be dragged down by the darker side of the job. And even though the promise was to himself, he couldn’t break it now. Or ever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The link to the flowers from Victor if the link in the text didn't turn out.
> 
> https://www.ftd.com/centerpieces-pcg/the-ftd-love-honor-arrangement/occasion-wedding-centerpieces-new/w56-5114/
> 
> Russia’s missing treasures:
> 
> https://www.rbth.com/travel/2014/30/07/top_ten_lost_treasures_of_russia
> 
> https://www.rbth.com/history/327506-where-russia-imperial-gold
> 
> This is a particularly interesting little article on Kolchak’s gold:
> 
> http://www.bbc.com/travel/story/20171022-in-search-of-russias-lost-gold
> 
> Kolchak’s gold was fun to research - there were so many theories and so much conflicting information. So don’t take any of what I wrote seriously! It’s all just good fun and fiction.
> 
> Next week we go back to Victor and see what he’s up to now…


	5. Chapter 5 - Victor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor receives a visit from Otabek and reluctantly does another job for Yakov… this time under supervision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was getting too long, so I’ve split it into two chapters to give it the detail it needed. This chapter might seem like filler, but it’s important for when Victor and Yuuri’s paths cross next. This chapter and next are Victor’s POV.
> 
> Apologies ahead of time I’m sure I’m inaccurate on the politics. I tried to do some research, but wow that is a rabbit hole. If someone knows more about it, feel free to let me know in the comments :)

A couple months had passed since the near-miss with the Just Judges when Victor entered the townhouse to find an unexpected visitor in the form of Otabek Altin. Although he’d never before met him in person, everyone that had anything to do with Yakov knew what Otabek looked like. He supposed he really shouldn’t be surprised by the unannounced visitor, although he and Chris had thought that enough time had passed since the incident in Belgium that they had avoided Yakov’s suspicion. He was being very careful to lay low these days, and was especially careful to keep his digital presence consistent with the false tracks Chris had laid down.

 

He smiled lightly at Otabek, keeping up the facade of “innocence” despite the fact that he was terrified. “Otabek, what brings the pleasure of your company today? I thought you were still working for Yakov. But then, now that I’m retired, I don’t keep up with things anymore.”

 

It was a blatant lie, of course. He kept as close an eye on Yakov as he could - even more so now that it had appeared that Yuuri was being caught up in Yakov’s machinations. And he knew that lately Yakov had gotten involved in politics again, which meant he had to be even more careful not to get the man’s attention.

 

Otabek raised an eyebrow in response, seeing through Victor easily. His face remained stoic, however, and Victor felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise in response. Otabek was one of the most dangerous of Yakov’s men, despite the fact that he wasn’t much older than Yurio. If the rumours were to be believed, Otabek had entered this life earlier than most, and had worked his way to the top with both drive and efficiency.

 

“You know that no one ever _truly_ retires from working for Yakov, Victor. We’re our own family, and you can’t retire from family.”

 

Well, that statement wasn’t ominous at all… Victor tried not to react or show fear.

 

“True, true, Otabek,” he replied with a congenial smile. “So what brings you to my neck of the woods? There’s nothing here that I can imagine Yakov being interested in.”

 

“Oh, we both know that’s not true, Victor. After all, you’re here, and Yakov is _always_ interested in you. Yakov always looks out for his ‘children’, especially ones that have left the nest. As for why I’m here, Yakov has a job for you.”

 

Victor’s blood ran cold. When Yakov had called on him for jobs in the past, he had used the communication protocol they had established. He had never sent anyone to Victor before, and certainly not _Otabek_. “I see… what does Yakov need? I had thought after the last job I did for him it would be some time before I would hear from him again.”

 

“Yakov has his heart set on a certain national treasure that was stolen, and your talents are particularly suited to recovering this treasure.”

 

“Oh, what treasure is this now?” Victor asked, somehow managing to keep his voice even. He was dreading the answer.

 

“The Amber Room. Yakov has located it. It’s in Frýdlant in the Czech Republic.”

 

Victor closed his eyes. He was a dead man. Yakov must have had an inkling that he had been involved in the Just Judges and this was his punishment. There was no way he would make it out of this alive, even if he did manage to secure it. The thing would be in at least a couple dozen crates, assuming it was still in storage, which meant it would take a substantial amount of time to remove. Victor specialized in stealth, in small jobs that were quickly in and out. This job would take a team, and Victor never worked on teams beyond Chris and Georgi. Teams were messy, hard to control and had questionable loyalties. And of course he had heard about the disaster in Omsk… Yakov had made sure that not a single man survived that debacle. A lesson to the rest of the ‘family’. Failure would not be tolerated.

 

Still, if he was going to die, at least the very attempt at recovering the Amber Room would ensure his status of legend was secured in the history books. The Amber Room had been considered to be the 8th wonder of the world before it was lost during WWII. A gift to Tsar Peter the Great in 1716 by the Prussian King, it had remained in the Catherine Palace until 1941 when it was stolen and brought to Königsberg by German soldiers. As was the case with many works of art stolen by the Nazis, it disappeared in the aftermath of the war.

 

“That’s… impossible, Otabek. My deal with Yakov was for jobs where I would work solo and nothing political. This is outside our deal. Yakov can find someone else.”

 

Otabek snorted. “Nice try, Victor. Don’t think that Yakov is completely... _unaware_ of some of your extracurricular activities. You’ve been careful so far, but I believe he has his suspicions. Your first mistake is taking him for a fool. He knows you too well, Victor. You are, at the heart, a thief. You’ll never be any better than a common criminal, no matter how you put on airs or pretend otherwise. You can’t stay away from this life no matter how hard you think you try.”

 

No. _No_. Maybe in the past, but not anymore. Victor couldn’t and wouldn’t even try to deny that he didn’t love the chase, the adrenalin that came from his work. But a common criminal? Not anymore. He clenched his fists at his side, clamping his jaw shut against the rebuttal that threatened to spill out. There was nothing he could say in response that wouldn’t make the situation worse, and it was already looking pretty grim.

 

“When?” He demanded, his voice taking on a sharp edge even though his eyes remained closed.

 

“You leave next week. You’ll get the details in the usual way. I just wanted to stop by so you could _fully_ grasp the situation.”

 

Victor nodded and held back a sob as he realized what else this meant. Yuuri. Yuuri would be called in for this one for sure. _Shit_. Everything he’d worked for in the last few years would come to nothing if Yuuri realized he was involved in this. And Yuuri got hurt… no, he couldn’t think about that. Yuuri, after all, was a trained agent and worked in the field. He had to believe he’d be ok.

 

He opened his eyes to find Otabek standing in front of where he’d been lounging in Victor’s favourite chair. Otabek locked his gaze on Victor’s, searching for something in his countenance, though Victor wasn’t sure what. Then, apparently satisfied, he gave Victor a brief nod and took a step towards the door.

 

At that moment both men froze at the sound of keys in the lock, and after a brief warning glance at Victor, Otabek quickly pulled his gun from its holster and took a defensive stance.

 

_SHIT_. Victor’s heart starting pounding so hard he thought it would explode from his chest. He knew it wasn’t Chris - Chris was out of town on a legitimate business trip. That meant… it could only be Yurio, who wasn’t supposed to be here. There was no time - no time to explain or warn either Yurio or Otabek before the front door was suddenly swinging open and the acerbic voice of his younger brother was heard.

 

“Victor! What the hell!!! I thought you were picking me up from physio! Do you have any idea what a pain in the ass it was to…” Yurio’s berating tirade cut off as he finally noticed Otabek. “What the hell? Why did you bring work home?”

 

“Victor, care to explain?” Otabek questioned in a quiet, deliberate voice, keeping his gun trained on Yurio.

 

Victor flicked his eyes between his brother and Otabek, quickly trying to think of a way of getting out of the situation.

 

“NOW VICTOR!” Otabek shouted. “Or he gets a bullet to the head.”

 

Yurio’s eyes went wide as Victor hasten to answer. “He’s not involved. He’s… just a kid Otabek. Harmless. He knows nothing.”

 

“By that logic, I’m also a kid and god knows I’m not harmless, whether I’m aware of specifics or not,” Otabek scoffed. “Give me a reason not to take care of him right now. You have five seconds.”

 

Victor gulped, scared shitless and knowing he’d been back into a corner. His shoulders sagged in defeat. “He’s my brother. Half brother, technically. But he’s not involved in my business, I swear!”

 

Yurio, thankfully, had remained still and silent through the exchange, showing maturity (and a sense of self preservation) far beyond his years. He stared at Otabek, eyes wide, but with an expression Victor couldn’t quite place. There was fear there, yes, but something more.

 

Oh no. Was that… curiosity? Fascination? Shit. OF COURSE Yurio would be interested in a “bad boy”. Fuck. Now what? Victor prayed to whatever gods that would listen that his brother was not experiencing his sexual awakening by Otabek of all people. But of course the fates would never be so kind.

 

“Hey, cool jacket. You gonna put that thing down now?” Yurio asked, breaking the tense silence.

 

Victor held his breath as he waited for Otabek to respond. “Yeah, ok kid. I’ve got no business with you. So long as you keep your mouth shut and your nose in your own business.”

 

“Yeah, whatever. I could care less whatever the old geezer does. So is that your bike our front?”

 

Otabek hesitated a moment before he straightened. He tucked his gun back into his holster and responded, “Yeah, why? You into bikes or something?”

 

“Or something. Hanging out with you looks like more fun then hanging out with my idiot brother. I’m tired of his over protective shit.”

 

Otabek stood stock still, evaluating Yurio while Victor’s heart continued to race, though he knew interfering would just make things worse.

 

“You know, you have eyes like a soldier, and that’s something I can appreciate. Why don’t you come with me and grab something to eat before I get out of town?”

 

“Only if we take your bike,” Yurio stated before Victor could so much as form a response.

 

“Hmmm. I’ll have to find you a helmet.” He flicked his gaze toward Victor for a moment, meeting his eyes with something like understanding. “Wouldn’t want your big brother to worry about your safety, after all. Let’s go.” And with that, the two left the townhouse while Victor stood stock still gaping like a fish out of water and yet still finding himself unable to interfere or even speak. The door closed and Victor finally found himself free of the paralysis that had captured him, and he sunk down to the floor, placing his head in his hands.

 

He remained there for several moments before his thoughts stabilized enough to think of next steps… at which point he promptly called Chris. On the encrypted phone. Not that he knew if that would even make a difference now. Despite their care, Yakov obviously had more information than they’d anticipated. Though for now, at least, from Otabek’s reaction it appeared that he remained unaware of Yurio’s existence.

 

~~~~~~

 

It was the day before he was scheduled to depart, and he and Chris were sitting in his favourite parlour in his country mansion waiting for Yurio to get back from the rink. Victor had refused to let Chris help in any way and Chris was still livid. But it just wasn’t worth the risk. This time it wasn’t just the risk of blowing Chris’s cover, but Chris’s life could be at stake. They had had quite the row over it, but in the end Victor had prevailed. Even if they somehow survived it, even Chris conceded he really didn’t want Yakov knowing that he was involved in the criminal realm. Besides, Victor needed to make sure there was someone left to look after Yurio.

 

“So, cheri, you doing ok?” Chris asked quietly. He might have been angry, but he was still worried. He knew Victor wasn’t expecting to come back this time.

 

Victor sighed. “No, not really, but I’ll manage.” His eyes flicked to the picture of Yurio at his first test skate, his eyes bright and excited. Leaving Yurio was the hardest part of it all. He took a deep breath and forced himself to look more confident than he was. “You’ve seen the preliminary plans. At least Yakov is dedicating enough resources to the job, though I don’t know how competent they’ll be.”

 

Chris snorted. “No one would live to your standards, Victor. You’re impossible you know.”

 

“There’s a reason I have the reputation I do, Chris,” Victor replied, smiling. “You’re the only one that lives up to my standards. Which is why I’ve trusted you with my contingency plan.”

 

“I hope you won’t need it. But you know I’ll be monitoring you, and Georgi will be my backup. I’ll get you out, Vitya. We’ll get you back safely to Yurio.”

 

“Thanks, Chris.”They smiled at each other, letting the lie sit uncomfortably between them.

 

~~~~~~

Victor stared out the window on the short flight from Geneva to Prague, thinking only of Yurio and hoping he’d be able to return home. He hadn’t let on to his brother that this might be the last they’d see of each other, and Yurio had been just as prickly as always when he told him about his ‘business trip’. One lucky thing though is that it seemed that for the moment Otabek seemed content to keep Yurio’s existence to himself. Shortly after his visit he’d received an anonymous message telling him that the ice tiger of Russia was indeed a rare creature and agreed such a creature should continue to be protected. Though the message seemed nonsensical to anyone seeing it, Victor knew that Otabek had meant that he’d keep his silence regarding Yurio. At least for now.

 

After landing he made his way confidently through customs. His dermal piercing this time was plastic, and fashioned to look like a mole just showing through his eyebrow. It was much more subtle, and less likely to be noticed even by Yakov’s people, especially since he wore his hair parted on the right with his bangs sweeping down to almost cover his left eye. This one didn’t have a camera, but it did at least function somewhat as a security device. Chris had created it with an active tracking device, and it was programmed to buzz him at set intervals beginning once he’d made first contact with Yakov’s team. After a buzz he had five seconds to respond by applying pressure to it to let Chris know he was safe. If he missed a check in then Chris would activate the contingency plan without any further communication. Chris had wanted to use a ring or activity tracker so he could have more information, but Victor had declined, knowing that Yakov’s goons would remove anything even remotely resembling jewelry.

 

There was no delay at customs and he made his way to the rendezvous point, which was just on the outskirts of Prague, heart stuttering the entire way. During his time with Yakov he’d only been part of such a big operation twice and both jobs had left a bad taste in his mouth. Yakov’s men, after all, relied on brute force rather than finesse. There were undoubtedly going to be casualties on this job, and more than likely, unnecessary ones.

 

When he arrived he was greeted with equal measures of suspicion and respect. Not surprising since he was the only one that had ever ‘left’ Yakov’s organization and survived. He was the favourite child, after all. He plastered on his best plastic smile and greeted the members of his ‘team’ even as he felt sick inside with what they were about to do. He winced internally as he surveyed the group and realized that there was a familiar face.

 

Anya.

 

Oh dear. Georgi would be inconsolable if he knew that his precious ex-girlfriend was now not just a part of Yakov’s group, but in a kill squad. One of the reasons Georgi had left was because he’d refused to recruit his ‘innocent’ Anya. Never mind that she had cheated on him not a month later and left him permanently scarred. For once Victor was glad that his monitoring device didn’t have video or sound. If Georgi saw this when he was covering for Chris, all hell would break loose.

 

Dismissing the thought he focused carefully on the group in front of him. He was the last to arrive so they began the briefing right away. They would be traveling the next day to the area around Frýdlant, which was approximately an hour and a half drive north of Prague. Once there, they would split up into different groups and pose as tourists. To make it more difficult to track them, they had managed to rent several Airbnbs. Not all of them were in walking distance of Frýdlant, but whoever had made the arrangements had done a good job ensuring that it wouldn’t look like they were a group. Victor himself would be staying in the location closest to the target as he was expected to conduct surveillance and detail the final plans.

 

The treasure had been traced to a manor house just outside of Frýdlant that had belonged to a wealthy merchant at the time of the war. According to the briefing materials his daughter had been living in Koenigsberg and had fallen in love with a high ranking Nazi general stationed there. When things started falling apart for Germany the general had absconded with the treasure he had been entrusted with to his lover’s birthplace where they married, keeping her name, and lived the life of merchants. Although he’d never been able to capitalize on the treasure with it being so easy to trace, by settling in Frýdlant the former general had managed to escape the purge of Nazi supporters and arrests of war criminals.

 

To conceal the treasure, the couple had dug a deep cellar adjacent to the house under the guise of storing temperature sensitive goods. When Victor had received the details for the job he had immediately realized the significance of this particular detail. He had done some research on the Amber Room and the many theories surrounding its disappearance. The most recent had been put forward by two scientists/historians/treasure hunters who had claimed that the treasure was hidden in the cellars of nearby Frýdlant Castle. Their source was a woman who claimed to have witnessed the deliveries of the crates into the castle. Which, of course, Victor had realized immediately, must have not been the castle at all, but instead the manor house identified in the briefing. The two men had requested access to the cellars of the castle but had been denied by the Czech government.

 

He and Chris had decided to capitalize on the situation, and the plan was to have ‘anonymous government officials’ leak to the media the legitimacy of the claim of the investigators regarding Frýdlant Castle. Of course the government would officially deny it, but by the time the truth was sorted out Frýdlant would bethe centre of international attention and swarming with the public, journalists and legitimate public officials. With the chaos that would ensue, Yakov’s group (including Victor) would have no choice but to retreat leaving no noticeable casualties. Victor was fairly certain that Chris’s contingency plan also included applying some pressure on the Czech government since it’s more than likely that they knew the truth of the Amber Room and would not want to be accused of knowingly harbouring a war criminal. Politics between the Czech Republic and Russia were always a bit delicate due to the Czech peoples’ memories of invasion and influence of the former Soviet Union.

 

He didn’t want to think it would get that far. But it was hard not to let his thoughts wander as Yakov’s man carefully positioned the poison pill on his molar, with firm instructions on its use, and what to do and what not to do. He’d of course had to go through the procedure before, but this time felt more final than the others.

 

He reigned in his emotions and kept a neutral expression. After all… he was a dead man walking. He didn’t need feelings.

 

~~~~~~

 

Victor was on day three of scoping out the manor house, hiding in a nearby copse of trees and despite the cover feeling very, very exposed. He’d been left in charge of reconnaissance, his expertise in the field acknowledged and respected. However, although he was allowed input into the final operation, he wasn’t allowed the final say.

 

Anya had been given command.

 

Of all people… Victor already burned with the humiliation of not being in control - he was used to having complete control over all of his jobs. The fact that he didn’t have that control on this job showed him just how much Yakov had come to distrust him. But putting Anya in charge… she was new to the ranks and on top of that associated with Georgi which Victor knew was yet another message, another warning.

 

He took a deep breath in and exhaled, calming himself and finding his centre. There were a million reasons he couldn’t screw this up, and above all, he would make sure that he didn’t do anything to put Yurio at risk. He had a feeling that Yakov was more desperate this time, that he needed this treasure more than he needed most jobs. He wondered idly if it had anything to do with the fact that he’d missed out on the Just Judges. Huh. That would make sense, he thought. There was definitely something or, perhaps more accurately, _someone_ , that was motivating Yakov to get political. Perhaps Yakov was getting desperate… which didn’t bode well for Victor. He’d really have to keep his wits about his this time.

 

After several days of observation, Victor had a good idea of the regular schedule of the inhabitants of the manor and their neighbours. He had formulated a few different possible scenarios for securing the crates that he would present to Anya for decision. If he was honest with himself, he wasn’t comfortable with any of them. There were almost 30 crates in total if the historical records were accurate, and the operation would have to be conducted over several days, drastically increasing the likelihood that they would be caught, or at least have to deal with innocent bystanders. Despite his profession, Victor deeply abhorred violence and avoided it whenever possible.

 

And then there was the chance that Interpol would pick up on their activities. After all, they’d been in the area for several days, so it was unlikely they would go unnoticed.Victor knew from the gold incident that Interpol was watching Yakov very carefully. Anya was a known member of the group, as were others. Victor just counted himself lucky that he himself had never been spotted, so there was no record of his face for them to search. Yuuri, of course, was the exception, though luckily that was only an eye witness account. But… now he’d made a ‘mistake’, crossed a line. He’d wanted Yuuri to be able to recognize him, to know more about him than anyone else. If he was truly being honest with himself, he wanted Yuuri to be able to see him - to spot him in a crowd when others would just see an anonymous stranger passing by and give him not the slightest bit of thought. Yuuri was the first person that Victor couldn’t take his eyes off of, and in turn, he wanted to be _seen_ by Yuuri. So when the single hair had fallen on his letter, he had left it there despite his professional instincts screaming at him to leave a clean scene. He hoped that single act wouldn’t cause his downfall.

 

And he already knew that Yuuri would be called in to oversee this one if they were noticed prematurely. While Victor sometimes revelled in the idea of being caught by Yuuri, he hoped beyond hope that it would not happen this time. He knew already that Yuuri would not forgive him for what was about to happen. He was desperate to make sure that Yuuri would not connect him to the horror he was to take part in. Victor sighed. That was the other thing. If he got caught, the consequences were likely to be a lot more dire than his regular jobs. So dire, in fact, that the poison pill might just be the better option. This time the consequence wasn’t a nice jail cell in America - no, he’d most likely be turned over to Russia and experience what they referred to as “rehabilitation”. He shuddered at what that would likely entail and felt suddenly relieved he had the option of poison.

 

He tore his thoughts from Yuuri and forced himself to focus back on the job at hand. There was one course of action that they could take that would greatly minimize their chances of being detected by Interpol, and this was the one he would recommend to Anya. Unfortunately it was not the plan that would minimize casualties, but Victor knew that regardless of what he recommended casualties were inevitable. He started composing his report in his mind, not wanting to commit anything to writing.

 

~~~~~~

 

The group was gathered at one of the Airbnbs they had rented out and were finalizing the plans. There were a total of 15 members of the team including Victor. He had just finished laying out the various options he’d come up with, and in the silence Anya was studying him intently. He wasn’t sure what she was looking for, what test he presumably had to pass, so he stood still and kept his expression as open as possible. There was no trick here - no, Victor wasn’t so stupid that he’d try to pull one over on Yakov. Not on this job at any rate.

 

“So, Victor, you’ve identified the biggest risk to this operation is being detected by Interpol, yes?” Anya asked, finally breaking her silence.

 

“ _Da_. I know the organized crime group has been paying close attention to Yakov’s activities, and after Omsk, it’s clear they are also dedicating a significant number of resources. Truthfully, I’m surprised that we haven’t been spotted yet.”

 

“You seem confident on that point - how can you be certain?”

 

“I can’t, not for sure, but I think they would have already moved by now if they had. We’d at least be seeing more security around Frýdlant Castle, and from what I can tell there’s been no additional activity.”

 

Anya raised an eyebrow at him, considering. “Why Frýdlant Castle?”

 

“Two reasons. First, there was a theory that surfaced in the last couple years that the Amber Room was in the cellars of the castle. So it’s the first place that we’d be expected to look.”

 

Anya interrupted him with a harsh laugh.“As if Yakov would pay attention to silly rumours and so-called treasure hunters. No, our information comes from inside. The Czechs have known about this almost since it arrived. It’s only through the personal favour to that whore’s father that they allowed the general to live in secret. Now! What is the second reason?”

 

“Second, the castle is a national museum, so it would be easy to explain the presence of extra security or government officials,” Victor explained, hoping by laying out all of his rationale that Anya would be persuaded to do things his way. “Also, it wouldn’t cause the local populace to be suspicious. The castle is an important tourist attraction as well, so they wouldn’t want to cause a fuss.”

 

Victor waited with all the patience he could muster as Anya considered his plans and the reasons for his recommendations. Finally, she nodded, and addressed the group. “I have considered the options and we will go with the first plan. After the disaster in Omsk, we must secure this for Yakov. If Interpol is the biggest threat, then that is the one that we will focus on… no matter what the personal cost.”

 

She paused, looking at each member of their team, her eyes blazing with determination and gave one additional and final order. “If you spot anyone you suspect to be from Interpol, you will immediately shoot them on sight. Shoot to kill - not one is to be spared or I will consider that an act of treason. _Is that clear?_ ”

 

As a chorus of “ _Da, mem_!” rang out, Victor felt his heart stop in his chest and only one thought seared through him.

 

_Yuuri_.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The theories regarding the Amber room are many and so varied. It was a lot of fun researching and coming up with my own “theory” (not that I actually think this is what happened, but it’s at least plausible. Maybe.).
> 
> The Amber Room:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amber_Room  
> https://www.irishtimes.com/news/world/europe/hunt-for-russia-s-missing-amber-room-turns-to-czech-castle-1.2537031


	6. Chapter 6 - Victor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yakov’s team starts recovering the Amber room, everything falls to pieces and Victor and Yuuri come face to face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just… enjoy the ride. There will absolutely be a happy ending for both of them, I promise.

It was early afternoon and everyone was busy putting the last pieces in place. They planned to start the operation that evening, and there was a tense energy running through the group. So far, everything looked good, but Victor didn’t trust that the agents running surveillance were thorough enough. He knew first hand that Minako’s group paid closer attention to detail than most, and if they had employed Yuuri and Phichit at this juncture, it was really just a matter of time until they were spotted.

 

Victor mentally ran through the plan again. They had a total of 15 men. He himself would be overseeing the removal of the crates, which had to be done very, very carefully in order to ensure that the amber, which was extremely brittle, wasn’t damaged. There was also the added danger that the wood panels framing the amber may have dried out and cracked or warped, and he needed to be on hand to ensure that everything was stable for transport.

 

Anya, of course, was overseeing the entire operation. While Victor would be essentially blind to what was going on, being positioned in the cellars, Anya would be in the manor house. They had assigned two men to surveillance, who were to mainly keep an eye on the castle, but also just generally observing any unusual activity around the town. The two would alternate in 6 hour shifts, taking a rest shift in between to report to Anya in person, sleep, get food, etc. - which was all well and good, but that meant that there would only be one pair of eyes keeping watch. It was yet another sign of Anya’s inexperience - Victor had identified Interpol as the biggest risk, so if he’d been in charge he would have devoted more resources to making sure Interpol wasn’t on their trail. He shrugged internally - it wasn’t in his control.

 

Eight men were assigned to the removal of the crates, which would take place over the course of two nights, or possibly three if it took longer than expected to secure the crates. The integrity of the amber panels was of the utmost importance. Over the last couple of days they had procured four anonymous delivery trucks and had stashed them throughout the nearby countryside, hidden to passersby, but convenient enough to retrieve when needed. Each truck would carry about the same number of crates and would leave immediately once loaded to the prearranged rendezvous point in Luban, Poland. Once there, the plan was to consolidate the crates into an ordinary household moving truck and transport them to Yakov. Arrangements had already been made on the Polish side, with some additional men to be sent by Yakov once they have the signal to ensure the rendezvous went smoothly.

 

That left the last four men - and the worst part of his plan. Every time he thought about it the bile rose in his throat. The last four men were to begin the operation by taking the occupants of the house hostage and holding them until the operation was complete. The housekeeper would be permitted to leave to go to the market, and perform her usual routine around town just to avoid suspicion. Of course, Anya had wanted to kill the family outright, but Victor had convinced her that it would be better to take them as hostages to ensure the cooperation of the housekeeper. Otherwise, they would attract unwanted attention if the routine of the house was suddenly changed, especially if they ended up needing the third night. Victor wouldn’t lie to himself, he knew that he was only prolonging the inevitable and that the family would be killed as soon as the housekeeper wasn’t necessary. In fact, his plan was even more cruel than if they just killed them outright since they would experience both terror and hope during the 48 hours of hell they would be put through. And he didn’t want to think about what the men overseeing their confinement might do during that time. No… in this case it was a good thing that he would be in the cellar. He just didn’t want to know.

 

He also had to admit to himself - he was being incredibly self serving in coming up with this plan and the justifications for it. He was sacrificing the lives of this family on the slim hope that not only would it prevent him from getting caught, but more importantly that if they could remain undetected he wouldn’t be putting his Yuuri in danger. Nothing was more important than keeping Yuuri safe, and definitely not his own safety. The second he had seen Otabek, he knew that his life was forfeit. He’d sold his soul to Yakov long ago, and though the reason for it he could never regret, he would always regret how his selfish actions impacted others. Selfishness could often be mistaken for selflessness, after all.

 

Feeling the pressure of being cooped up for too long, he decided to take a walk to clear his mind. Making the excuse to Anya of getting their bread for the day from a local bakery, he pulled on his coat and headed outside.

 

It was a bit of a walk to the town proper, but Victor didn’t mind, taking in the scenery as he attempted to calm his mind. The weather was just cool enough he could get away with a hat, and he took full advantage of that with his hair tucked neatly out of sight. He’d barely left the manor house when he felt the buzz of his dermal piercing, which was now a familiar sensation. He rubbed at his eyebrow, pressing the security device, and once again was glad but torn with the reminder of Chris’s presence. He wished that Chris hadn’t insisted on making contingency plans. In a lot of ways it made Victor’s job a lot harder… there were just too many people to protect this time.

 

Focusing on the path ahead, and placing one step in front of the other, he let his mind become numb with the repetitive movement of his stride and the feel of the wind biting his cheeks. He looked up as the road became smoother, the attention to maintenance heralding the entrance to the town. As he made his way to the bakery he’d had in mind, he took in the sights around him. The town itself was nothing impressive, but spoke of a long history - a permanent footprint upon the land that could be found in the smaller towns scattered across Europe. It was a permanence that Victor longed for; a sense of home that he’d never found. Perhaps that was why he’d been so determined to purchase his current home - it screamed of history and the impact its former family had made on the local community.

 

Despite his daydreams, Victor made sure to pay close attention to his surroundings, and more specifically to the people he did and did not recognize. As a hobby he loved to study human nature, and with that combined with his own natural empathy, he was often able to accurately ascertain people’s motives, how they would react in certain situations and whether they were in their natural environment…

 

Which was why he could spot the two Interpol agents right away.

 

Government people always had a certain way about them. A certain reserve and rigidity that was in part the result of strict training and absolute allegiance and in part a lack of autonomy. Government agents were, after all, forbidden to act on their own accord - individual thoughts/plans/ideas had to be vetted by closed minded superiors who were given their unqualified trust. He thought Yuuri had been lucky when he chose his path. Interpol was too international, its agents too diverse, to follow that model exactly, though it certainly wasn’t free from its influence. Despite the bureaucracy and strict protocols, at least Yuuri had seemed to find his own path.

 

But shit. _Shit_. Now what? Their orders were to shoot Interpol agents on sight. How long would it take for those idiot men of Yakov’s to figure out they’d been spotted?

 

But more importantly, how long would it take before Yuuri determined what they were after and arrived? After all, with the latest claims about Frýdlant castle, once the increased activity of Yakov’s men was noticed it was certain Yuuri would come to the right conclusion. Who was he kidding? If Interpol was here right now then Yuuri probably already knew everything. They’d run out of time.

 

He sighed and continued on, watching his breath freeze in the air, creating a wisp of cloud in front of him. All he could do right now was what he had told Anya - go to the bakery, grab bread and head back, oh so innocently. He knew that Yakov’s men hadn’t yet spotted the agents, and he wasn’t going to tell them. Anya’s orders meant an immediate death sentence for those agents, and that would just escalate the issue. So Victor decided he’d keep his silence and let the incompetence of the men Yakov had sent set the standard for surveillance.

 

~~~~~~

 

It was late in the evening and the group was eating dinner together and going over the specifics one last time before they began. The two men responsible for surveillance had not yet spotted the Interpol agents, Victor was glad to note, though he knew that it was just a matter of time at this point. The agents hadn’t exactly been careful to conceal their presence.

 

After they finished, Victor chose to clean up while the others gathered their gear. He dried the dishes to the background noise of guns being loaded, heavy thumps as gear bags were being set near the door and the ominous sound coming from Anya’s direction as she sharpened her throwing knives. He finished up as the first four left the house silently on their way to secure the location. Taking a deep breath, he made his way to his room and made sure all of his supplies were ready before changing into his signature black catsuit.

 

He had a collection of oils, flannel clothes, soft cotton padding and the necessary supplies for strengthening or even rebuilding the crates. The shock resistant foam that would serve to protect the crates themselves from being transported was already in the trucks since it wouldn’t be needed until the crates were actually being loaded. The success of the operation depended mainly on himself - both in his ability to preserve the amber panels and his speed in doing so. The more quickly they could finish, the less risk.

 

Once again entering the main room of the small cottage he signalled the eight who were in charge of loading and transporting the amber to help him retrieve his supplies and load them into the car they would be using.When they were finished everyone remaining went to their assigned vehicles to wait for the all clear before heading to the manor house. Victor was assigned to travel with Anya, and he had been dreading the time alone with her.

 

And of course, as expected, she used the opportunity to her advantage.

 

“So, Victor, I hear you are still in contact with that loser Georgi,” she needled as she started the car. “I didn’t think you were so stupid.”

 

“Stupid? …I’m not sure I understand,” Victor replied mildly, though he was slightly alarmed. “I’ve known Georgi a long time, in fact, ever since I entered this business. Why wouldn’t I keep in touch? He’s a good friend.”

 

“You know what I mean, Victor. Do you really think that Yakov wouldn’t notice when Georgi suddenly was obtaining and selling goods that only someone of your skills could obtain? You both think that you’ve been so secretive… it’s quite pathetic actually.”

 

Victor looked out the window a moment to compose himself before he responded. “Well,” he murmured, turning to Anya, “I suppose Georgi has a certain _style_ , doesn’t he? He tends to go for the dramatic, and really, the more garish the better…” He smirked as Anya glared at him, hearing the insult for what it was. “And while he might have bad taste, at least we can agree that his one redeeming quality is his loyalty and faithfulness to his friends.” Victor watched Anya’s hands tighten on the wheel and wondered if he had pushed her too far. He gave a mental shrug - after all, in for a penny, in for a pound as the saying went.

 

“You had better watch yourself, Victor. Your participation in this operation is just Yakov giving you one last chance, and it’s _my_ word he is going to rely on when deciding what to do with you.”

 

Victor doubted that very much, but knew it wasn’t a good idea to antagonize her any further. “You’re right, Anya, that was uncalled for,” he responded placatingly. “You can’t blame me for sticking up for one of my good friends, however. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t do otherwise?”

 

Anya glanced at him quickly before turning her eyes back to the road. “I suppose you have a small point. Things between me and Georgi didn’t exactly end well. Though that’s mostly on him - he refused to accept I was breaking up with him. Sleeping with someone else was the only way to get through to the dense idiot.”

 

Victor let a little chuckle slip out - Anya did have a point. “I think we can agree that Georgi can bedramatic, oblivious and stubborn to a fault. That’s not the way he tells the story, but honestly, I am not surprised that you had to resort to that.”

 

The air between them eased a little just in time for them to come to their destination. The manor house that was their target was just outside of Frýdlant, though close enough to the main road that they had to be cautious and make sure the vehicles couldn’t be seen. Anya pulled in behind the main house and parked the car at the side of one of the many outbuildings on site. Victor was instructed to stay put while Anya entered the manor and took stock of the situation, which was just fine with Victor. He really didn’t want to have any contact with the hostages if he possibly avoid it.

 

After about fifteen minutes Anya came out again, waving at him to meet her. He got out of the car and followed as she led him to the entrance of the cellar. “Alright, Victor, you know what to do from here. The hostages are secure and being held in one of the main rooms. If you need a break for any reason, use the comm using the codes we established. Otherwise I want radio silence. I’ll send one of the guys to you for regular reports, but otherwise I want your full concentration on getting those crates ready for transport. Understood?”

 

Victor nodded. “Understood. Don’t worry, I will work as quickly as possible so we can get out of here. I have just as much interest in this operation being successful as you.”

 

“Just don’t sacrifice the panels for speed, Victor. This one is particularly important to Yakov, and it needs to arrive intact.”

 

Victor just nodded in response and turned to go into the cellar. Once he had an idea of what he was dealing with and how he wanted to set things up, he’d have the other men bring his supplies down.

 

~~~~~~~

 

It was long past midnight when Victor decided he needed a quick break. He needed caffeine and some fresh air to clear his head before he could continue. He’d been working steadily for four or five hours, and had only managed to deal with four crates, which was not a good sign. Although the cellar had benefited the amber in terms of keeping it away from heat and light, the dampness had not done either the crates or the frames around the panels any favours. He had had to reinforce individual frames, and in one case almost completely rebuild it. They had not planned on such extensive preservation work to be done on site prior to moving the crates, which had made everyone in the group mildly panicked. Even Anya had acknowledged that it was a good thing that they had kept the family alive so the housekeeper could keep up appearances. At the rate it was going, even finishing in three nights was going to be difficult.

 

He stood outside in the frigid air, sucking in deep breathes in an attempt to expel the mustiness of the cellar and the smell of rotting wood. He nodded at the man keeping guard before making his way into the house to grab a coffee from the breakfast area at the back of the house they had set up with refreshments. So far he had managed to avoid the room where the hostages were being kept, and he would continue to do so as long as he could. His nerves ramped up a bit as he stood in the absolute silence of the house. The illusion of being completely alone was especially eery considering how many people were inside. He realized that the inhabitants had probably been drugged to make things easier through the night, though he had expected more activity from Yakov’s minions.

 

Grabbing a thermos filled with coffee he headed back to the cellar, the silence broken only by the crunch of his shoes hitting the frost covered ground. He got back to work immediately and hoped that the next crate would be in better condition than the last.

 

He cringed. No such luck.

 

~~~~~~

 

With the exception of those guarding the hostages and doing surveillance, the team had converged in the breakfast room for an early lunch. Victor had worked almost twelve hours straight at this point, and although they had not planned for Victor to work on the crates during the day in case of the truck being spotted, the dire condition of the panels had forced Victor to work longer.

 

Victor was exhausted and at the limit of both his endurance and supplies. He was in peak physical condition, but being stuck in an underground cellar doing manual labour with little fresh air and almost no breaks had taken its toll. Although he’d only been able to finish up nine crates, he’d finally had to call it quits a little after 10 am so he didn’t accidentally damage one of the panels in his exhaustion.

 

He nibbled on a slice of bread with a homemade jam that they’d found in the pantry and listened idly to Anya while she discussed the situation with Yakov. Since he needed additional supplies, he’d requested a short rest followed by a quick excursion to gather supplies, preferably just himself with perhaps one other so as not to garner more attention than necessary. Anya had agreed that it would be best if he went to Liberec to gather what he needed. It was a half hour drive, but had a much larger population which meant that not only would he have a better chance of finding what he needed, but he wouldn’t attract attention. In such a small centre as Frýdlant, the locals were bound to wonder why a ‘tourist’ was purchasing building supplies… not to mention the Interpol agents he had spotted, but he certainly wasn’t going to tell Anya that. The two idiots on surveillance still hadn’t noticed Interpol’s presence.

 

“Ok,” Anya addressed them, finally off the phone, “here’s the plan… Victor, you will go with Alexei to Liberec later this afternoon, say around 2 pm. That should give you some time to clean up andstill leave enough time before the stores close to get what you need. When you get back, go to our rental and rest. I will expect you back around 10 pm. Sergei will be starting his shift on surveillance, so you two can set out together. Any questions?”

 

“Ahhh… just one…a suggestion really. As we trying to appear as tourists, I have taken to going to that one bakery every day for our bread. If we want to keep up appearances, I should probably head there first thing.”

 

Anya nodded. “Good point, Victor. We probably need to restock the rental anyway. Anyone have anything else?” Her question being met with silence, she clapped her hands once. “Ok, everyone knows what they have to do. Anyone sees anything out of place, and I mean _anything_ , I expect an immediate report.”

 

Heads nodded, and Victor jammed the last of the bread in his mouth before standing up and stretching, feeling the relief as his back cracked down the length of his spine. He headed out to the car and changed quickly into civilian clothes, stuffing his suit in the back of the car for later. Pausing a moment he took stock of his surroundings. He was going to have to proceed on foot, but couldn’t be seen on the main roads coming from this direction. Luckily there appeared to be enough tree cover, he’d at least be able to get fairly close to where he normally entered the town before he was forced out into the open.

 

It felt good to stretch his legs and breathe in proper fresh air after so being confined to such a small space underground for so long. The sun was beating down creating a warmth that was unusual for the time of year and Victor turned his face upwards to enjoy the feel of its gentle caress on his skin. The breeze flitted through his hair, drying the last of the sweat on his scalp and leaving him shivering. Patting it down into some semblance of order, he continued on, easily finding the road leading into town.

 

~~~~~~

 

At a few minutes before 10 pm Victor found himself refreshed after a good sleep, and back at the manor house staring at the door that led to the cellar. Despite the need for speed, he was reluctant to head back down - it was hard work and the stagnant air and closed space made it that much worse. He took one last deep breath of the fresh night air and steeled himself as he finally entered. Alexei had dropped off his supplies earlier, and he was happy to see someone had saved him some time by hauling them into the cellar, stacking everything neatly against one wall. He was hoping tonight would go more quickly, since now he knew more about the condition of the amber panels and had purchased supplies better suited to the task. He had originally guessed about how the panels were constructed, and although he hadn’t been completely wrong, having the right tools was going to make a world of difference.

 

A few hours later found him outside, once again, staring up at the clear night sky and savouring the bitter and rich aroma of coffee that filled the air. Anya had scheduled his break for 2 am, and he took it gladly, the fresh air more than welcome. The work was going a lot more quickly, as he’d hoped, and he’d managed to get another eight crates loaded, bringing the total to seventeen crates. If he could keep up the rate he’d managed the last few hours, the job would be finished by around 8 am - a bit later than was ideal, but they’d still be able to get out of town before the housekeeper was normally out and about. Anya had come out to see him to get his report personally, and he had gladly accepted the coffee and sandwich she handed to him. Refreshed from the break and excited by the prospect of finishing the job by the end of the night, he was buzzing with energy as he went back to work, optimistic that things would work out.

 

… he should have known better. Fate was never that kind to him.

 

~~~~~~

 

3:06 am. The height of the witching hour.

 

How appropriate…

 

Victor was just finishing up the tenth crate of the night when one of Yakov’s minions came bursting through the door in a panic. His blood ran cold as he immediately realized they’d been discovered, and he was trapped underground with only one exit.

 

“Interpol is here, execute plan C1” the man shouted before clumsily bolting up the stairs.

 

_SHIT_. He was right. Plan C1 was the plan they’d developed if they suspected they’d spotted any Interpol agents. That meant that if Anya’s orders were followed then those agents were dead… and meant Interpol would be responding _en force_ at any moment.

 

Trying to calm himself as much as he could, Victor focused on finishing his current task. His job in this plan was to finish loading whatever they could then join Anya in their rental car. They’d then make several attempts at diversion and meet the others at the rendezvous point in Poland.

 

Victor shook his head as he frantically stuffed the remainder of the crate with packing cotton and hauled it up the stairs himself to the waiting truck. He knew there was no way that they’d escape. Not when Yuuri was heading up the operation as he knew he would be. Finished loading the last crate, he pulled his hood and mask up, effectively covering everything but his eyes.

 

His eyes darted around the scene, taking in the whirlwind activity surrounding him as everyone tried to tie up loose ends as per the plan. He ran to the car assigned to him and Anya, and had just reached the door as he hear a cacophony of screams and gunshots from the manor. He closed his eyes briefly, knowing that it was necessary to leave no witnesses, but still feeling the regret of the brutality of the killing of innocents in his soul. He hoped the family hadn’t suffered too much.

 

He was still waiting for Anya when a couple minutes later there were more gunshots and four of his team members unexpectedly appeared, running _from_ the main house. Realizing immediately that Interpol must have arrived, Victor decided he had to keep moving if he wanted to survive, if he wanted Yurio to have a future.

 

He sprung from where he was waiting by the car and sprinted away from the scene. Changing directions, he remembered a grouping of trees nearby, and ran as silently as he could. When he reached it he kneeled at the base, trying hard to control his breathing and to observe everything he could. He thought briefly that maybe he could just let everything play out from where he was, keep low, and after everything had settled he could escape on foot.

 

That would be his goal. Screw Yakov.

 

Yurio was more important.

 

He tried to keep his eyes from watering as he witnessed the destruction coming from the manor house, but they still stung. The screams of the men he had recently shared bread with echoed against the thud of silenced gunfire. He knew those men had been stupid and had missed so, so much during this operation… but to have their lives snuffed out so easily still hurt. So much death in this place. So many wasted lives. The blood spilt here would stain the landscape for generations to come.

 

He moved as silently as he could to the next copse of trees, trying to gradually work his way further from the manor house. He had just slipped behind a thick trunk when he heard Anya scream, then aa brief moment of silence before the noise of flurried activity took over.

 

Victor looked down. Anya had probably activated the poison pill. It was more than likely all of his ‘team’ had been caught had died in this attack. He was on his own.

 

If he could escape.

 

With thoughts of his younger brother fuelling him, he brought all his talent to bear, analyzing his surroundings and trying to think of the best escape route. Mentally mapping out an area that was for the most part tree covered, he began to move silently, but surely in that direction.

 

He couldn’t fail. Not this time.

 

Absently as he moved to the next batch of trees he realized that he hadn’t felt his dermal piercing vibrate in a while. He wondered if it meant it had quit working or whether he was out of range. Either way, it didn’t matter anymore. He just needed an exit. … now.

 

He was about 500 m from where he’d started when his luck ran out. He spotted the agent (obviously Interpol) tracking his movements from about 50 m away. He tried his usual tricks to get rid of a tail - tricks that were usually quite successful. However, this agent somehow managed to hang onto his trail, following with an ease he’d never before seen. Becoming desperate, he made his way to a farm house, anticipating that he could lose the agent by dodging through the outbuildings. He didn’t want to kill, but if it came to it, he was prepared and ready. With Yurio’s safety as his goal, he’d stop at nothing.

 

It wouldn’t be the first time, after all.

 

Diving behind some hay bales, he kept in a crouch and levelled his gun, ready to shoot the second the agent following him appeared around the corner of the barn he’d taken shelter behind.

 

Sure enough, not even five seconds later a man rounded the corner, staying low to the ground but with his gun outstretched from his body. Victor fought the urge to roll his eyes. It was such a cliche position, and one that all those who were government trained favoured despite how impractical it was for actual missions.

 

The agent cocked an ear, making Victor wonder if he’d made nay noise, before he pulled his gun in closer to his body and disappeared behind a rain barrel. Victor did his best not to suck in a breath as he realized that this agent was better trained than the others, and he needed to be extra careful or he was not getting out of this situation.

 

He ran his tongue across the dip in his molar, carefully and slowly, working to slightly soften the cap that had been placed there. He hoped to hell he didn’t need to use it, but he didn’t want to leave himself without the option, and it was starting to look rather dismal.

 

Both men stayed where they were for several moments; it seemed as if they were both waiting for the other, like a dance where neither partner knew who was to take the lead. During the silent and invisible standoff Victor had been keenly assessing his surroundings, trying desperately to come up with a plan of escape, any route that might at least give him an advantage in this apparent stale mate.

 

Finally he spotted it - some low bushes that surrounded a long abandoned chicken coup. The wood would not stop any bullet aimed his way, but he hoped that the scenery would at least provide a distraction while he sprinted to a more strategic location.

 

Giving himself a count of three to gather his courage and tense his muscles for the necessary sprint, he spun around one last time to take note of the agent’s location.

 

Which was not even ten feet behind him.

 

Like a jackrabbit, he took off with explosive speed, target in sight and gun at the ready. He careened around the dilapidated chicken coup, bringing his gun to eye level and the same time the agent rounded the corner in an identical position.

 

He instinctively kicked out a leg, connecting with the agent’s ankle and sending him sprawling with the single swipe. He sprang up from his position to tower over the agent, pinning his arms over his head and neatly pocketing the man’s gun.

 

Now in complete control, he brought his gun to the agent’s forehead and prepared to shoot. His eyes went wide as he looked past the barrel of the gun and met deep chocolate eyes -eyes that once again pierced his very soul and left him breathless.

 

“Yuuri…” he stuttered. He was shaking now, his gun all but useless, his training alone enabling him to keep it aimed at the man he loved. His thoughts flitted to his brother, to everything he had never been able to do for him, despite everything he had given up to give him a future. …and realized there was only one choice he could make…

 

“I’m so sorry…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The witching hour:
> 
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Witching_hour_(supernatural)
> 
>  
> 
> Next 2 chapters we return to Yuuri’s POV. Ummm… sorry, not sorry for the cliffhanger ;p


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri arrives in Frýdlant, hot on the trail of Yakov’s group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> his chapter and next from Yuuri’s POV. Hang on for the ride and remember, I take the happy ending tag very seriously :) These boys are meant to be together and happy in every universe.
> 
> I know nothing about politics. This is pure speculation for the sake of fiction, do not take seriously.

<several days earlier - Raspenava, Czech Republic>

 

Yuuri and Phichit were sitting in the restaurant of their hotel sipping coffee and relaxing before they started their work for the day. They’d picked a hotel in Raspenava, a small village that was close enough to Frýdlant to observe, but far enough that those they were observing wouldn’t notice them. Or so they hoped. Other then themselves there were only two other agents in Frýdlant who were doing surveillance, and they were staying in the town proper. Minako and the rest of the team were 30 minutes away in Liberec.

 

After having retrieved Kolchak’s gold, Yuuri and Minako had had several discussions trying to figure out what Yakov’s motive behind the heist was. Although they believed they had retrieved all of the gold stolen by Yakov’s men, at an estimated value of $80 million it was worth significantly less than any of the historians or treasure hunters had guessed. Which meant that either there was more gold to be found, or the treasure had never been as much as had been thought. But what was the most perplexing is that the ‘gold’ was in the form of currency - that meant that there was no way Yakov could have converted it to modern currency without someone finding out the gold had been found. That led Yuuri and Minako to the conclusion that Yakov had been doing it on behalf of either a government or a political party as those were the only groups or organizations that would be able to go public with such a find and convert the treasure into usable currency. And if the hints that Victor had given him about the Just Judges were true, then it was obvious that there was something big going on.

 

Yuuri hadn’t told Minako about Victor’s last message, which was an omission he still felt a little guilty about. But really, it didn’t contain much more than the letter that they had found in Luxembourg. Prior to the failed gold heist, Minako’s intel had been that Yakov had just been doing smaller jobs, assignations, and the like, which were the typical sort of thing a group like his would agree to in return for the government turning a blind eye to their activities. However, Kolchak’s gold (and possibly the Just Judges if Yakov was indeed looking for it) indicated more serious motives. With what had happened in the Ukraine, it seemed Russia was working on some larger goal outside its borders, and both Minako and Yuuri were worried Kolchak’s gold may have been an attempt to destabilize the precarious political balance in Eastern Europe. Exactly what the ultimate goal was, and what lengths they would go to in order to accomplish it was still a matter of speculation.

 

So as soon as Minako had traced Anya to the Czech Republic, she’d called Yuuri, and he and Phichit had joined her as soon as they could get flights. Anya was known to be an up and coming member of Yakov’s Bratva, and from her past association with Georgi, who was a known broker or art and rare treasures, they suspected Yakov was planning to retrieve another of Russia’s lost treasures.

 

Yuuri had immediately made the connection with the Amber Room. It had only been a couple years since some treasure hunters had gone public with suspicions that the crates containing the room were hidden in the cellars of Frýdlant castle, though the Czech government had vehemently denied it and refused the men access to the cellars. Once he had briefed Minako on the history of the Amber Room she had caught the significance immediately. Since the Czech government had taken such a strong stance on the matter, if the treasure was indeed there it meant that they knew it was there. Which also meant that the government had likely knowingly hidden both a wanted war criminal and Russia’s rightful property. With the history between the Czech Republic and Russia, if it became public that the Czechs had knowingly withheld the treasure from Russia… well, Yuuri didn’t want to think about the consequences. Between this and the just Judges Yuuri was worried that Yakov was involved in some sort of political plot to not just de-stabilize politics but outright cause a war.

 

Realizing that Phichit had finished his coffee, he took one last gulp and stood up. They returned wordlessly to their room, so accustomed to each other’s habits and body language there was no need to speak. The room was sparsely decorated, but charming in its own way and still much cleaner and roomier than they would expect from a double room in a smaller centre such as Raspenava.

 

It was, in fact, such a small rural area that Phichit hadn’t been able to rely on security or traffic cameras. Instead he’d been slipping out in the middle of the night installing his own cameras at strategic locations to enable proper surveillance. It was taking longer than they had hoped, but the small population meant that they had to do things slowly and carefully so they weren’t noticed by either the locals, or Yakov’s men who were undoubtedly in place somewhere. Of course the advantage was that Phichit’s cameras were much higher definition than what they usually had to deal with, so anything they got was likely going to be much more useful.

 

It was weird, Yuuri thought, to be preparing for a crime to occur. Since leaving Minako’s group he was always called in after the fact, which he preferred in general since (until the last incident) that way he didn’t have to deal with the violence that came with the crimes they were asked to investigate. Coming in after the fact meant that the crime scenes were mostly sanitized - there might be blood, but other than that he didn’t have to witness the results of any violence that had occurred.He was immensely grateful for that fact, but at the same time, this job was reminding him of how effective it could be to set things up ahead of time. They had such an advantage by being able to familiarize themselves with the area ahead of time and set up top quality cameras where and how they wanted to ensure they got clear images. Phichit already had facial recognition programs set up with links to his servers back home. It was as instantaneous as it possibly could be. They were about 24 hours behind Anya’s arrival, but Yuuri wasn’t worried. If they were truly after the Amber Room, it was going to be a job that would take a considerable amount of time - both to scope out and to execute.

 

~~~~~~

 

Later that afternoon Yuuri was watching Phichit’s feed out of sheer boredom when suddenly a head of hair caught his eye. “Phichit! The camera on the middle left! You need to isolate it and go back. I… well, let me see it again.”

 

Phichit did as requested, setting the video to play the previous two minutes of feed. The camera had been positioned on a light pole just outside the edge of town, one of several Phichit had installed to try and track people traveling in and out of Frýdlant. For the first few seconds the only picture was that of an empty road, but then a tall man appeared, stepping out from the trees beside the road and walking briskly, head down. Phichit froze the feed on a still of the man, already trying to feed the information through his facial recognition program.

 

Yuuri would recognize him anywhere, with or without the silver hair. “Victor’s here,” he said softly. “SHIT Phichit! That means he’s working for Yakov.”

 

“Yeah… even if I didn’t know that my BFF is thirsty enough to recognize him on sight even in disguise, that silver hair is pretty distinctive. I wonder why he didn’t cover it - especially since he left you a momento in that last letter.”

 

Yuuri ignored the ‘thirsty’ jab as he responded, “I just don’t get it. Why would he warn us off of Yakov with the Just Judges, yet here he is helping the Bratva get the Amber Room? It doesn’t make any sense.”

 

“No… it doesn’t,” Phichit added thoughtfully. “It also doesn’t fit the types of jobs Victor’s been doing since Boston. Or at least those we’re aware of that are connected with him. Victor always works alone, or with one or two at most, never with the size of the team we’ve estimated is necessary for this job. He hasn’t been involved in something like this for years.”

 

The two were silent as they contemplated the implications of Victor’s presence. After a minute, Phichit grabbed his tablet, inputting something and scrolling through something before putting it down again.

 

“Well, either he just arrived or he’s gotten careless about covering his hair. I looked through the search results for people with similar hair colour, and I didn’t see anyone that could be Victor.”

 

Yuuri nodded. “I guess it makes sense in a way that he’s here. There aren’t that many people that have Victor’s expertise - both in stealth jobs like this and in art preservation. They must have hired him to make sure that the treasure was properly preserved. Still… after that warning he gave us, I’m really surprised.”

 

“And disappointed?” Phichit asked gently. “I know you had some hope that Victor was easing off the hard crime.”

 

Yuuri smiled tightly at him before responding. “What I hoped doesn’t really matter, Peach. Victor’s a criminal, and it’s our job to capture him. It’s really that simple.”

 

Huh, _simple_ was the opposite of what this was, Phichit thought, anger rising. After playing with his best friend’s heart, Victor had better have a damn good reason for being here.

 

~~~~~~

 

It was just after 8:00 pm as they were returning to their room from dinner when Yuuri’s phone rang with Minako’s distinctive ring tone.

 

“You know, if Minako ever figures out that you have the ‘I see a silhouette of a little man’ portion of Bohemian Rhapsody as her ring tone, she’ll kill you with her bare hands.” Phichit pointed out, rolling his eyes.

 

Yuuri shot him a look. “You just hate that song.” He paused, swiping his phone to receive the call. “Minako, what’s up?” He was silent except for a grunt of acknowledgement every now and then, listening intently. “Ok, then, when do you expect to arrive?… got it. See you then.”

 

“What’s going on?!?” Phichit demanded, not liking the expression on Yuuri’s face.

 

“I don’t know how, why, or maybe more importantly, _who_ , but someone posing as a government official has leaked to the press that the location of the Amber Room has been confirmed to be the cellars in Frýdlant Castle. Minako said the Czech government is scrambling, but they refuse to share any information with Interpol at this point, so we’re on our own. We do know that they’ll be sending some form of law enforcement, hopefully not military. I assume that’s to deal with the expected influx of people into the area. The Russians haven’t responded formally yet, but it’s anticipated that they will come down hard on the Czechs. And on top of that, we can expect a media circus to arrive any time now. And treasure hunters.” Yuuri frowned at the last. “They’ll be the ones that will really cause a problem since it means potential civilian casualties if something goes wrong.”

 

Phichit let out a low whistle. “Well, that’s going to complicate things. I wonder if Yakov’s group knows yet. They’ll have to either abandon the Amber Room all together or get it out in the next few hours. … What are our instructions?”

 

“We need to find the real location ASAP. At least we’re a good 3.5 hours from Prague, so that’s the soonest any international media will start showing up. Well, I guess 3 hours now. Minako’s already contacted the agents in Frýdlant. They’re going to take a more active role and put their ‘feet on the street’. We need to go through your footage and figure it out. Maybe let’s concentrate on anything that looks like a delivery truck or some sort of vehicle or trailer could transport the crates. They will be quite heavy, so Yakov’s men have limited options for a transport vehicle.”

 

“Ok,” Phichit responded. “Searching for vehicles might be a bit more difficult. I have a facial recognition program going, but nothing set up that would recognize a vehicle like that. I think what we should do it go through the last 24 hours on high speed, starting with overnight and dusk and early morning since it’s unlikely they would be moving in broad daylight. We’ll start first on the roads nearby where we saw Victor enter the town.”

 

“Good idea Peach. Let’s not include the road he was on in the first round of searches though. It’s unlikely he’d be walking so openly close to where the target is.”

 

“Ok, got it. That leaves about three roads - two but one branches out a bit further from the town. This is going to take us course, but I think it’s manageable.”

 

“Let’s do our thing, Peach.”

 

~~~~~~

 

Two hours had passed and neither Phichit or Yuuri had spotted anything that they thought might be a likely transport vehicle.

 

“Yuuri,” Phichit spoke up, his voice laced with worry. “Given how long this has taken so far, I think we need to change our approach. I don’t think we’re going to find anything anytime soon.”

 

Yuuri sighed in defeat, and sat back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. “You’re right, Peach. They must have brought the trucks from out of town, and the location is too far out from where you set up the cameras. They haven’t had to go near the town at all.” He got up and paced the room, more to stretch his legs and get the blood flowing again than to fidget. Although admittedly, he did have a certain amount of nervous energy - after all, Victor was involved.

 

“Ok… so let’s look at the satellite maps we have. Is there any chance of getting recent satellite imagery? Maybe we can pick up an unusual traffic pattern around a certain area. I don’t think we can’t do this ourselves in the timeframe we have - who else is there we can bring in on short notice?”

 

Phichit grabbed his phone in excitement and starting scrolling through his contacts. “I don’t know why we didn’t think of this before, Yuuri. We need Mila! She’s already stationed nearby and it’s her _job_ to analyze all the satellite data.”

 

“GAH!!! How could we forget about Mila?!!! She’d probably already have pinpointed their location by now… Phichit how did we miss that? We should have brought her in immediately.”

 

Phichit shrugged as he started talking rapidly to Mila. Yuuri had met Mila a few years ago while on one of his last operations with Minako. It was another one of Yakov’s crimes, he recalled, and Minako had made good use of Mila’s skills. Mila’s history was a mystery to everyone, though Yuuri thought his boss Celestino knew something more. She was known to be a genius, acting as an information hub for all of Interpol’s internal groups, and providing information to Interpol’s member countries as requested. But even though she was known for her brainpower, some agents still whispered about _that_ Christmas party when one of the braver agents tried to flirt with her. It… didn’t end well. Mila had lifted the guy over her head in an easy impression of a bench press, then thrown him to the ground and pressed the toe of her boot to his pulse point until the guy just about passed out. Suffice it to say, no one dared get too friendly with her again.

 

Except Phichit, of course, whose sunny personality was full of exuberant innocence that made it impossible to distrust his intentions. The two had become pretty good friends, and Mila was actually the one who had encouraged Phichit to develop his expertise in mining data from social media. Thanks to their mutual love of information gathering and analyzing patterns, a solid friendship had developed, which Yuuri had the privilege of by extension, being Phichit’s best friend and partner.

 

Yuuri had his own theory about Mila and her origins, however. Phichit was happy to avoid thinking about things like that for the sake of her friendship, but Yuuri loved to study human nature and couldn’t help himself. So over time, he’d silently observed and hypothesized and come to the conclusion that Mila was working with them as part of some deal brokered for information. Whether she had been a spy or worked with some criminal organization, Yuuri didn’t know, but he was almost certain that the arrangement was similar to a witness protection program. After all, people didn’t just get hired from seemingly nowhere into the level of security clearance that Mila had.

 

“Ok, Yuuri, Mila’s got it,” Phichit announced, ending his call. “We’re in luck too, it seems that there’s one satellite that passes by at almost the exact time we need, and another one that won’t have as direct of a view, but covers a few more hours. She’s analyzing it, so why don’t we take a short break andstretch our legs and then we can focus better on our next steps.”

 

“Good idea, and there’s a garden out the back of the hotel we haven’t been in. It’s too cold to eat out there, but maybe coffee after we’ve walked around a bit?”

 

“Done,” Phichit grinned at him, and Yuuri let the reassuring familiarity sweep over him and give him a much needed confidence boost. The situation might seem insurmountable now, but the duo was known to pull rabbits out of a hat, and this time would be no different.

 

He was sure of it.

 

~~~~~~

 

Yuuri had yet to take a sip of his coffee when his phone alerted him to a text message. “Ah. Minako’s here,” he informed Phichit. “I’ll let her know to come around back.”

 

A minute later Minako’s voice sang out, “I came bearing treats! Picked these up at a little family owned bakery before I left Liberec.” She plopped herself down at the table and produced a brown paper bag that contained a variety of kolache - little Czech pastries that resembled danishes if Yuuri had to be pressed for a description. They were soft, but not too soft, and not doughy either despite looking almost like a bagel. The filling of the one that Yuuri chose was cottage cheese - not too sweet and just the right touch with the light sweetness in the dough.

 

Phichit took a bite and sighed in satisfaction. “We might not be in Prague, but I swear the Czechs do pastry just like the French. Or maybe better. It’s not as ‘precious’.”

 

Yuuri couldn’t disagree with that assessment. He may have had pastries that were better (or just fancier) in Vienna and France, but these were made by a local family, rather than a pastry chef, and the recipe was most likely one that had been handed down through generations - it was just beyond comparison. He also appreciated that the sugar was subtle - just a complement to the pastry rather than attacking his taste buds.

 

“Mmmmhmmm,” Yuuri sighed in response. “Thanks Minako, this was just what I needed. Though, as much as I’ve enjoyed our break, we _are_ in a time crunch. I suppose we should get moving.”

 

“Mmmm. It’s not quite necessary. When are you expecting to hear from Mila?” Minako inquired.

 

Phichit shrugged in response. “You know Mila. She never gives an estimate. She delivers when she delivers.”

 

“True enough,” Minako replied with a sigh. “Well, at least there’s no sign of the press yet. I know you two are nearly cross eyed from looking at video streams. I want you to rest until 11:00 before you resume. I managed to get a room here, so I’ll go check in.”

 

“But is that ok? What about the other agents?” Yuuri questioned. “What’s the plan?”

 

“The two that have been conducting surveillance will continue. The rest of the contingent from Liberec has set up a temporary base camp nearby - and I mean _camp_ \- where there’s some good tree cover. Given the sensitivity of the situation, the last thing we need is the press spotting us. That’s what I’ve been supervising since we left Liberec. We managed to get some generators for the electronics, but it might be an issue, so I’m going to direct the operation from here. It will be safer too, just in case the camp is discovered and cut off. Anyway, they are just finishing up, then it’s monitor the situation and wait.” Minako stood up then, brushing the crumbs off her lap. “Ok, I’m off. I’ll come to your room at 11:00 sharp.”

 

Yuuri watched her go and took a deep breath. It had been a long time since he’d been part of an operation that had to be conducted _literally_ in the field. As the phrase went ‘ _shit was getting real_ ’. He looked back to Phichit, who had just swiped another pastry and looked for all the world like an innocent early twenty-something. A part of him was jealous, and he truly hoped Phichit could keep that innocence as long as possible.

 

~~~~~~

 

Minako had let them know just after midnight that the foreign press had start to arrive in noticeable numbers. This was it, Yuuri thought when he heard, they were now on borrowed time. They _needed_ to find Yakov’s men _now_ before things blew up.

 

Still, despite being on edge and ready to move at any moment, it wasn’t until 1:30 that they got word that the Czech military had begun to mobilize - officially what they told Interpol is it was for ‘crowd control’. Both Yuuri and Minako knew better, and began working even more frantically to try and find their target.

 

Phichit, on the other hand, was much more nonchalant.

 

“I don’t get why all of a sudden it’s this big emergency,” he whined as he rubbed his eyes. They’d all been staring at video feeds for far too long. “Why do anything before the military gets here? They should be able to handle things just fine.”

 

“But Phichit!” Yuuri retorted,“That’s exactly the point. We need to be able to move in _before_ the government takes action. The Russians obviously know where it is, and if the Czechs try and bury this, it’s going to turn into an international incident!”

 

“But don’t they just get it before Yakov’s goons and produce it to Russia like ‘oh yay we found your treasure, here you go’?”

 

“First off, you’re assuming that the whole thing is still there, which quite frankly is unlikely at this point, since we know Yakov’s group has been here a while. What are they going to do if Yakov already has half of it? Whatever they come up with will be seen as a lie immediately. And you’re forgetting the most important point - the treasure had to have been brought here by a member of the German army… so if the government knows, it’s quite likely that they knowingly harboured a war criminal. And _that_ , my friend, is going to cause international waves.”

 

“Yuuri’s right, Phichit,” Minako interjected. “This could potentially destabilize the fragile political situation in this part of Europe. What happens here is going to have some major impacts on the world stage. Can you imagine if the NATO allies weigh in? Especially if England voiced support?”

 

Phichit paused, contemplating Minako’s words and the potential outcomes. “Well shit. We need to intercept Yakov’s group before they finish and recover anything that’s been moved.”

 

Yuuri laughed, bright and deep. “Well, yes, Watson, that’s what I’ve been telling you.”

 

“Oh, shut up, Holmes!” Phichit returned, the banter coming easily.

 

Yuuri allowed himself a small smile. It was these warm familiar moments of camaraderie that made the more ugly parts of the job more bearable.

 

~~~~~~

 

2:03 am

 

The time would haunt Yuuri in the weeks and months to come.

 

It was the time they finally pinned down the location of Yakov’s agents, thanks to Mila. It was the time that started the events that would irrevocably change Yuuri’s life.

 

Once the call came from Mila, everything, all at once, became frenetic.

 

Minako started barking out instructions to all agents, getting them organized to move in. The two on surveillance were to find any of Yakov’s men in Frýdlant immediately and keep close tabs on them. They were expecting as soon as the media presence was known to the two keeping watch it would cause Yakov’s group to act immediately and with desperation. Luckily, it seemed the men were incompetent and had yet to notice anything.

 

Yuuri’s instructions were to move to the field camp and prepare to join the agents who would close in on the location, while Phichit would stay in the hotel and coordinate the reports and information coming in.As Yuuri donned his bullet proof vest and checked his weapons he was thankful that Phichit would be far from the action.

 

After all, Victor’s presence or not, this was Yakov’s group, and that meant things were likely to get bloody.

 

Yuuri was armed and ready to head out, waiting for the rest of the group to get ready and finalize their plans before they picked him up. It had taken longer than expected, and was now approaching 2:30.

 

However, as the clock hit 2:48, their time had run out. The agents that had been following both of Yakov’s men tracked them close to the castle. It was clear that they had finally noticed the crowd of reporters, so the agents had tried to intercept them to prevent them from reporting back and alerting Yakov’s group to the situation.

 

They failed.

 

Minako, who had been watching the interaction relayed by the micro cameras both agents wore, witnessed their deaths. Yakov’s men were quick and efficient, not hesitating the moment they spotted the men, not even allowing enough time for either to call out. Both Yuuri and Minako recognized that that efficiency meant thatdespite the evidence of sloppy surveillance, Yakov has sent some of his more experienced assassins… which meant they needed to hit them with everything they had if they had any hope of success.

 

2:55 am

 

Yuuri jumped in the car with a bunch of other agents, adrenalin burning hot in his soul and premature regret already permeating his mind. Whatever happened, there were sure to be lives lost this night, though given the stakes, it was better these few than whatever hostilities could arise with Russia.

 

After a few minutes they pulled into a small driveway and travelled a bit further before pulling behind a stand of trees. From what Mila had been able to discern, they guessed that the treasure was actually located in a cellar near an outbuilding that was some distance from the main house, as she’d been able to identify what might have been a truck next to the building the previous night.

 

Given the distance between the cellar and manor, it had been decided that they’d split into two groups and approach their targets from different directions. It meant that they wouldn’t be close enough to support each other, but it should minimize detection and cut off an escape route for the men taking care of the amber. Their current location was a few minutes walk from the manor house and had been identified as the best one for allowing them the most cover. Minako had assigned agents on the assumption that the family living there was being held hostage, so the majority of agents had been assigned to the manor house - both to catch the controlling minds of the operation, but also to make every attempt they could to save the family. That meant that Yuuri’s group could potentially be outnumbered as they weren’t sure yet how many men had been assigned to the extraction of the amber panels.

 

Their instructions were to wait for a signal from Minako, and while they waited, Yuuri worried over what they would find. Or more accurately, _who_ they would find. Yuuri hoped desperately that Victor wouldn’t be with the group at the cellar. Surely, given Victor’s prestige and value he wouldn’t be doing the ‘dirty work’ but would be supervising from elsewhere. Yuuri prayed to whatever gods that were listening that that was the case.

 

But then again, Yuuri wasn’t sure if he really should wish that the other agents would most likely have to deal with Victor. After all, he had to admit to himself he was compromised when it came to him. Yes, he would absolutely do what he had to do to ensure the mission was successful, but if he saw Victor he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t hesitate. On one hand he was hoping that he wouldn’t be faced with that situation - on the other he was also scared that Victor would be killed.

 

No, he had to have confidence in Victor’s skills. No one had ever caught him and he had been in worse situations and made it out. This one would be no different, Yuuri reassured himself.

 

While they waited Yuuri attempted to calm his mind by engaging in some light stretches, keeping his muscles warm and relaxed. He noted absently some of the other agents were doing the same, killing the time through preparation rather than worry.

 

It was a long 15 minutes before the comm spiked to life with Minako’s voice booming through to tell them at last to move out. He took a deep breath and thanked the stars Phichit was not in the field.

 

~~~~~~

 

His group kept low to the ground as they moved cautiously toward the outbuilding, using the natural elements as well as they could to disguise their approach.

 

Gun shots rang out in the direction of the manor house, and Yuuri bit his lip in worry. Was it Yakov’s men killing the hostages or Minako’s group taking down the ‘bad guys’. Yuuri took his gun out, ready for whatever they’d find when they came to the cellar.

 

The leader of their group signalled to halt when they got close and Yuuri hit the ground immediately to prevent detection. The sound of gun fire resumed from the main house, and he slowly raised his head to observe the scene before him. There were four of Yakov’s men in sight, matching Yuuri’s group number for number. They were running from the house towards the delivery truck. He spotted a fifth a short distance away, leaving the dubious cover provided by a car and heading towards their left.

 

The leader of his group gestured at him to follow this last man, and Yuuri set off after him as silently as he could. The odds were in their favour since none of the men appeared to have detected or anticipated that Interpol would have a second group of agents. Sloppy, really. He expected better from Victor. He should have known that they would make sure the escape route was cut off.

 

Yuuri kept followed his target, running on silent feet, any noise of the frozen ground lost in the sound of the violence unfolding behind him. He relied on skills long ago learned and perfected to track his target through the country side, darting here and there through outcroppings of trees and other natural cover.

 

His target changed direction suddenly, approaching a farmhouse, and dove behind some hay bales. Yuuri veered to his left, knowing he had probably been spotted and the man that was his target was likely using the bale as cover to take a shot at him.

 

He crouched down and extended his gun, performing the blind corner maneuver he’d been taught in training so long ago. He needed to make sure he got this one, and before the man ahead of him activated his poison pill. He wouldn’t have a repeat of Petropavl. He held his position, cocking his head and opening his senses and straining to listen for any movement from the man he hunted.

 

He remained frozen for several minutes, listening carefully for any noise and ready to spring into action. Finally, he heard the thud of a foot and his target sprung from his hiding place towards a nearby group of trees.

 

Easy, Yuuri thought. Such a stupid decision.

 

He easily bolted after his prey, now a mere 10 feet behind him. He brought his gun to bear, concentrating on his aim so he could shoot before they reached the trees.

 

Suddenly his leg went out from under him as the man had all of a sudden whipped around and kicked his ankle. He found himself vulnerable, lying on his back with Yakov’s man hovering over him and his arms pinned over his head and a gun aimed squarely at his forehead.

 

Not yet defeated, he assessed his alternatives, which were not looking good. Perhaps bargaining? He looked up at his attacker, prepared to give a speech about the benefits of surrendering when he froze in shock.

 

For his eyes met the azure blue eyes of his dreams, the eyes that had haunted him for years.

 

_No, not you_ , he thought. He could feel the pinpricks of tears at the corners of his eyes as he silently cursed everything that had led up to this moment.

 

He saw the same thoughts reflected in Victor’s eyes, and the gun started to shake. Fate seemed to have a cruel sense of humour when it came to the two of them.

 

“Yuuri… I’m so sorry… I didn’t… I didn’t have a choice…” Yuuri was frozen, still in shock and found himself unable to reply or respond in anyway. His life was flashing before his eyes, yet he wondered in the back of his head if it was _Victor_ who would be the one to take it, then maybe it was meant to be.

 

No, he needed to stop daydreaming and deal with the reality that was unfolding in front of him.

 

Victor was sobbing openly now, his eyes falling to Yuuri’s chest, though he managed to keep his gun aimed steady and straight at Yuuri. Yuuri didn’t know what the hell was going on, but knew above all else he needed to defuse the situation somehow.

 

“Victor…” he asked, his voice tense but steady and otherwise unreadable, “care to tell me what’s going on?”

 

“I… can’t… I…” he lowered his gun then, completely broken.He looked up at Yuuri, tears streaking unchecked down his face as he holstered his gun. “I can’t… I can’t do this. Yakov ordered us to kill anyone from Interpol on sight. But I can’t kill you Yuuri, even if it they’ll see it as a betrayal.” He closed his eyes for a second. “And betraying Yakov means a fate worse than death.”

 

Without any warning, he leaned forward, taking Yuuri’s captured wrists and twisting his arms up, around and back, forcing Yuuri up onto his knees with a nimble maneuver that was quicker than lightening. “I’m going to leave now, Yuuri, and you’re not going to follow me. I know you need answers, but I can’t give you any if I’m dead. I need to… disappear for a while. If you don’t hear anything from me in three weeks, find Chris… Giacometti. Of _that_ Giacometti family. And please, Yuuri, please, tell him to make sure Yurio is safe. Otabek hasn’t told. Now, as soon as I let go you’re going to count to 100 before getting up. Nod twice if you understand. If you try to come after me, I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold back. There are some things I will do anything to protect.”

 

Yuuri nodded twice as requested, his mind spinning from everything Victor had said. If he managed to survive this, he imagined he was going to need therapy for a long, long time.

 

He watched as Victor got up, graceful as a dancer, and as he turned he dropped one last breadcrumb in a voice so soft it was nearly swallowed by the gentle rustling of the dead leaves scattering across the ground as the wind picked up. “Luban.”

 

With that said, Victor ran swiftly to a patch of trees and disappeared, becoming just another part of the darkness by blending in perfectly with the barely-there shadows cast by the waning moon, now hardly a crescent hanging high in the sky.

 

Yuuri counted to 100 in measured breaths, then didn’t hesitate a second longer, taking off silently and using all of his carefully honed skills to move stealthily away from the scene. He refused to think about what had just happened, forcing himself to focus on his surroundings and take one careful step at a time. After all, if he didn’t get back to Phichit and Minako, he’d be a dead man himself, and dead men didn’t have anything to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Phichit’s hotel. According to Google it’s called “Enchanted Castle”
> 
> http://www.hotelzamecek.com/cs/
> 
> Ummm… I need to make these  
> http://www.twoofakindcooks.com/cottage-cheese-kolaches/
> 
>  
> 
> Yeah, satellites and stuff. Fiction - suspend belief :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri reports to Minako and the team return to Detroit. Yuuri comes to certain conclusions and he confesses to Phichit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a transition chapter, but Yuuri needs to think things through and come to terms with certain things before he can move forward.

The first thing Yuuri realized after Victor left is that he was virtually unarmed. Although he had a couple throwing knives on him, he would be the first to admit he only carried them as a last resort. He was going to have to be really careful not to be spotted or engage any of Yakov’s men. But to ensure that didn’t happen he needed some time to think and get his bearings.

 

He darted to the nearby farm house, keeping as low as he could and keeping in the shadows. Once he was against the wall, he crouched down to his knees and considered what to do next. First, he needed to parse through what had just happened and decide exactly what he was going to tell Phichit and Minako, and decide quickly just in case they contacted him when they realized he’d been separated from his group. He was extremely glad at that moment that a) they weren’t working on an open comm line and b) he was the only agent not wearing a camera.

 

Pushing aside his emotions as he’d been trained to do, he thought logically. His encounter with Victor had actually been really informative.He quickly took stock of what he had learned.

 

_Victor wasn’t there willingly._

_Yakov’s men were under orders to kill all Interpol agents, and to refuse would be betrayal._

_Victor couldn’t shoot Yuuri, even if it meant betraying Yakov._

_Betraying Yakov was ‘a fate worse than death’._

_Even though he couldn’t shoot Yuuri at that moment, there was something or someone that he would choose over Yuuri._

_That something/someone was more important to him._

_That something/someone needed protection._

_Chris was actually Christophe_ **_Giacometti._ ** _Heir of the Giacometti family._

_Someone named Yurio was important._

_Otabek had been in contact with Victor and knows something important._

_Luban was connected to Yakov’s heist in some way._

_Victor didn’t choose the poison pill._

 

There was probably more, and some conclusions he could draw, but that covered the highlights. Now - what did he _need_ to tell Minako? Or rather, what could he safely leave out? He reviewed his list again and decided that she didn’t need to know (yet) about Chris, Yurio or Otabek. He probably ought to mention Luban, but if he mentioned that Victor had told him that, she’d be suspicious as to _why_ \- soYuuri would have to try to avoid her speculation.

 

Ok. So for the moment he’d reveal enough of the truth that the missing information wouldn’t be immediately obvious. He could do this. With that decided, the next task was to get back to the field camp. He mentally went over the route he’d taken chasing Victor, and realized he was actually a lot closer than he’d realized. In fact, close enough he hoped that Victor hadn’t accidentally run into anyone as he escaped.

 

Wait… did he actually just hope that the bad guy got away? He groaned internally. It was time to face facts - he was well and truly gone for Victor.

 

~~~~~~

 

After making it back safely to the field camp, he’d given a bare bones report then waited with the two agents who were manning the camp until Minako finally announced the crime scene was considered secured. The plan was for Phichit to pick her up and they’d head over together while the other agents would remain until reinforcements arrived and start the process of collecting evidence.

 

It was now 5:30 in the morning, and Yuuri was really starting to feel the exhaustion catch up with him. He just hoped Phichit was bringing coffee, as it was freezing outside and there was only so much the emergency blankets could do when much of the problem was simply lack of sleep. Sure he wouldn’t freeze, but he sure as hell wasn’t warm either.

 

He remained quiet as the other agents did their jobs, monitoring cameras and assimilating what information they had received throughout the night into a report. He sat huddled on the ground, hugging his knees, trying to stay both warm and awake.

 

He’d now had a lot of time to consider his meeting with Victor, and there was a lot he needed to work through. Victor had said that he had no choice, and Yuuri chose to believe him. He knew Phichit would probably think he was being stupid, blinded by his feelings for the man, but Victor had been so utterly _broken,_ and so desperate for Yuuri to believe him. No, Yuuri couldn’t believe that it had been an act or that Victor had been manipulating him - he was sure Victor was sincere. And why would he lie about that? There was no reason to lie about the fact that he had been forced to do the job for Yakov. He had all but escaped at that point and really had nothing to gain by telling Yuuri that. And even if he’d been captured, it wouldn’t have made a difference in whether he was arrested. No, the only reason that Yuuri could come up with was that Victor was determined that Yuuri himself believe that he didn’t _want_ to be there. And it was consistent with how his jobs had changed since Boston. Yuuri could only conclude that Victor wanted Yuuri to believe that he himself had changed.

 

Viewed from that perspective, it shed light on so many things. The theory he and Phichit had developed that Victor had changed his ways rather than allegiances was most likely right. And the fact that Victor had looked so distraught that it had been _Yuuri_ that had found him - well, Yuuri was done being in denial, and he finally believed that Victor cared for him, and not just superficially.

 

Victor had definitely been coerced to participate in the job of Yakov’s - and it wasn’t that hard to guess how that had been achieved.That someone or something that Victor was trying to protect was probably named Yurio.

 

The big remaining question was who was Yurio?

 

He sighed. Only one way to find out, and that was through one of the more mind boggling revelations of the night. Chris… was actually a _Giacometti_. One of the senior branches of the Habsburgs, who had ruled a good portion of Europe not that long ago. The family was normally beyond reproach, engaging in honest business endeavours and known for their generous work and contributions to charity. However, Christophe, as he was properly known, was not in the public eye at all despite being the heir, and the only reason Yuuri knew of him was because of his extensive knowledge of European history.

 

And then there was the matter of Otabek. He really didn’t want to think about Otabek being on Victor’s tail.

 

Yet everything made sense. Phichit’s reports of Otabek in Switzerland, Christophe’s residence in Switzerland… it must be where Victor is (or was) based.

 

The fact that Victor had come into contact with Otabek meant that Victor was on Yakov’s shit list. For what, Yuuri couldn’t imagine since Victor hadn’t been that active in the crime world lately as far as he could tell. Oh. Except for the Just Judges. But was more going on? It appeared that Otabek knew something that Victor was desperate to keep secret - the existence of this Yurio person - so it was hard to say. But one thing Yuuri knew is that Otabek didn’t make personal visits often. And usually when he did, he was the only one to leave the meeting alive. No wonder Victor had had to do the job.

 

The key, he thought, was Yurio. He needed to contact Chris - secretly - and at least pass on Victor’s last message. Victor had made it clear that not only was he willing to die for this Yurio person, but he’d even compromise whatever principles he’d established since Boston. The only conclusion Yuuri could come to was that Yurio must be family of some sort.

 

Some family that was previously unknown to Yakov.

 

He was broken from his musings by the arrival of Phichit and Minako, unfortunately without coffee (‘There was no where to get it at this time of day, Yuuri!’ was the response when he complained). He uncurled from where he was huddled and stood up to go meet them.

 

Minako nodded at him in acknowledgement and went to speak to the two other agents while Phichit stayed with Yuuri. “So? Your report was bare bones, which means I know there’s a lot you’re not telling me. Spill, Yuuri.”

 

Yuuri huffed, knowing that he wasn’t going to get much past Phichit, though he was certainly going to try his best to keep certain things to himself, at least for now. “There wasn’t a lot to report while the priority was securing the scene. I’m much more interested in what you have to tell me, quite honestly.”

 

Phichit raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll let Minako fill you on the big picture. I will say though, that it was an interesting experience. I can understand now why you’re such an adrenalin junkie. Though I think that’s the closest to being in the field that I ever want to be.”

 

“I’m glad to hear it! Because I don’t want anyone other than you watching my back,” Yuuri acknowledged, smiling at his friend. “We make the best team as we are.”

 

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that Yuuri!” Minako interjected as she walked over. “You don’t trust me to have your back anymore?”

 

“What!! No no no no no!!!!” Yuuri hurriedly denied, flustered, bright red and waving his hands. “That’s not what I meant at all!”

 

“Just joking, kiddo. Calm down. Ok, so I need you to go over what happened in more detail, then we’ll discuss the current situation and next steps.”

 

“Right. Ok, so as I reported, there were a total of five men but one of them ran, so I chased him down. I corned him at the farmhouse that is approximately 800 m northwest of here. Unfortunately he got the better of me and I lost my gun in the process.”

 

“And were you able to identify the man? I assume if he was close enough to disarm you, then you can at least can give us a description.”

 

Yuuri gulped before he answered. There was no avoiding a direct question, even if he intended to keep that information to himself. “Yes. I was able to identify him. It was Victor. Victor Nikiforov.”

 

Minako let out a low whistle at the news while Phichit’s eyes became round as saucers. “Are you sure?” Minako demanded. “We don’t have any visual records of him.”

 

“Oh… well, I saw him that once in Boston - you remember.”

 

“But that was _years_ ago. Are you absolutely sure it was him?”

 

“Uh, yes. He is um… quite… unforgettable.”

 

Now Phichit was howling at him, and he knew his face was vivid red.

 

“I… see. What else do you have to report?”

 

Yuuri bit his lip, trying to quickly decide what he should reveal. “Well, he recognized me, of course. And he said they’d been ordered to kill all Interpol agents on sight. But he said he couldn’t kill me. So he let me go.”

 

“Uh huh… anything else to add? Did your Don Juan give you any other useful information?”

 

“MINAKO!!! It’s not like that!!!”

 

“I’m not so sure of that, Yuuri. But back to business, what else did you learn?”

“He mentioned Luban. No other context, just Luban.”

 

“Poland?”

 

Yuuri shrugged. “I assume so. It was just as he was leaving, and he said it so low I almost didn’t hear it at all.”

 

Minako turned around and immediately started barking orders at other two agents. She turned back to Yuuri, explaining, “From what we can guess, there’s 8-10 crates missing. They must have already removed them. I’m guessing your Victor was telling you where they were headed.”

 

“He’s not _my_ Victor,” Yuuri grumbled, “but anyway, it would have to be Poland. Given the politics they’d want to avoid Germany. Unless, I suppose they wanted to absolve the Czech government from hiding it and make it look like the Germans gave it back.”

 

“Mmmm. I agree with you. The politics with this one are just so… fragile. Russia has really been playing with fire lately. Though I’m leaving that speculation to the higher ups.”

 

“So what happened at the manor?” Yuuri questioned, wanting to get back on topic.

 

“A disaster is what happened. We got to the perimeter in time to hear the hostages being shot. We moved in as quickly as we could, but the end result is that all but one of Yakov’s men are dead. As you know, everyone had ball gags on them as well as the antidote so we could try and avoid the last incident, but either the men were killed during the initial engagement or managed to activate their poison pill before we could gag them. There is, as I mentioned, one survivor - other than Victor, that is. You should recognize the name - it was Anya.”

 

Yuuri nodded in recognition, though he felt sick at the number of lives that had been lost that night.

 

“From what we can tell she was the leader. We managed to incapacitate her, but she activated her poison pill. We did get the antidote into her, but not quickly enough. She’s in a coma for now - a real sleeping beauty.” Minako rolled her eyes. “No prince is going to rescue her though. Yakov must really put the fear of god into his men. I’ve never seen so many so eagerly throw away their lives by either jumping in front of a gun or using the poison pill. They didn’t even wait to see if we’d offer clemency.”

 

“I’m not surprised…” Yuuri spoke hesitantly. “Victor seemed absolutely desperate. He mentioned that betraying Yakov was a fate worse than death. He was… petrified, quite honestly.”

 

“I wonder why he didn’t resort to poison then…” Minako pondered. “It must be that bad if no one else hesitated.”

 

Yuuri shrugged. “It’s Nikiforov. No one understands why he does _anything_.”

 

Minako nodded at him, accepting his answer, but out of the corner of his eye Yuuri could see Phichit looking at him speculatively. He had no doubt he was in for a full interrogation from his best friend at some point. He just hoped he’d get to sleep first.

 

~~~~~~

 

The plane was circling above Detroit when Phichit finally shook him awake. Their time in the Czech Republic had been hard on both of them, if for different reasons. Yuuri was glad that Minako had sent them home immediately after the failed? Successful? mission in Frýdlant. He wasn’t sure whether any of it was a success to be truthful. He was just glad that Minako and the higher ups were dealing with the fall out. He didn’t want to have anything to do with tracking the missing crates or dealing with the politics. Let the others work their magic and avoid another world war. That seemed to be their daily job nowadays, he thought with a combination of bitterness and cynicism.

 

The world was a f*cked up place these days. He sighed. Good thing the average person didn’t know just _how_ bad things were. What actually appeared in the news was bad enough.

 

The familiarity of the airport and routine of going through customs, collecting their luggage and getting themselves home helped Yuuri settle down. He’d been on edge since that night - for all sorts of reasons. But mostly wondering what to do about Victor.

 

Finding himself exhausted to the point his body couldn’t cope, he made his way to his bedroom on autopilot and flopped on the bed, asleep almost as soon as he hit the pillow.

 

His last coherent thought was that Phichit, and their inevitable ‘discussion’, would have to wait till another day. He’d use jet lag as an excuse. Yeah, that’s what he’d do…

 

~~~~~~

 

“It was JETLAG!!!”

 

“Yuuri, I know you were avoiding me and you’re not getting out of this conversation again. I let you use that excuse when we first got home, but now you need to answer some questions. I know there’s more to your meeting with Victor than you let on.”

 

Yuuri pushed back in his office chair, letting it roll from his desk a bit and stared at the ceiling. He blew out a deep breath. “Yeah, ok, Phichit, there was. It wasn’t relevant to the operation though.”

 

“Yuuri, this is becoming a habit - a BAD habit. How do you know it wasn’t relevant?”

 

“Because it has to do with Victor’s past and why he was there.” Yuuri sat up straighter, looking his best friend in the eye. “You remember you spotted Otabek in Switzerland?”

 

“Yeah… are you saying… Otabek was meeting Victor there?”

 

“He didn’t say so in so many words. But what he did tell me is that he had no choice to be there and he mentioned having spoken with Otabek. So… you put two and two together.”

 

“Are you sure he wasn’t just saying that? I mean that he was forced? To get your sympathy so you’d let him go?

 

“Oh, believe me, Phichit, that wasn’t the case at all. Not only did he say he had no choice, but he kept apologizing. And… he was crying, Phichit. He looked absolutely devastated. It was not an expression I thought I’d ever see on the face of the legendary Victor Nikiforov. No, I believe that he was forced into the job. What I’m not sure of, exactly, is why. It seems Otabek is holding something over him.”

 

“Do you think it has something to do with a job he did for Yakov?”

 

“No,” Yuuri sighed gently. “Maybe a job he _didn’t_ do for Yakov.” He knew he was going to have to be more forthcoming, though perhaps not yet. “I have some ideas, but I don’t want to share quite yet. Victor said he was going to disappear for a while but I should hear from him in three weeks.”

 

“And if you don’t?”

 

“I um… well, I have an idea where to look, but I want to do more research.”

 

“Yuuuuuuuurrrriiii… I thought we had talked about keeping secrets….” Phichit admonished.

 

“I know, I know. But seriously, I want more information first. And I’m hoping that I’ll get that information directly from Victor.”

 

Phichit was silent a minute, scrutinizing Yuuri closely before he spoke again. “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt for three weeks - and only three weeks - on one condition.”

 

“And that is?” Yuuri knew at this point he was screwed. He’d have to agree to whatever Phichit demanded of him.

 

“At the end of the three weeks you will share ALL of the information you got from Victor - and that includes everything from Frýdlant and anything you hear from him since. _GOT IT_??!!!!??”

 

“Yes, Phichit,” Yuuri replied meekly.

 

“Good. Because if I even think for a moment you are being 100% forthcoming, then I’m reporting all of this, including the silver hair, to Minako. Let her deal with your insubordinate ass.”

 

Yuuri gulped. He’d really tested the limits of his friendship with Phichit. He knew at this point he’d withheld more information than he could reasonably justify, and Phichit was being more than reasonable. If that got out now, not only would he lose his job, but there could be legal repercussions as well. “I understand, Phichit. I promise I’ll tell you everything. Just give me that three weeks.”

 

Gauging his sincerity, Phichit was silent a moment before finally nodding and going back to work. Phichit was putting his trust in Yuuri, and Yuuri would show his thanks by making sure he stuck to his word. Hopefully he’d hear from Victor… but if not he’d come clean with Phichit. Completely.

 

~~~~~~

 

Exactly 23 days had passed since that fateful night in Frýdlant, and Yuuri still hadn’t heard from Victor. At this point, he was beyond worried.

 

It was time to have that promised conversation with Phichit.

 

Yuuri had made sure he was in the office early, and had, in fact already gone out to get Phichit’s favourite doughnuts for a treat. …not because he was trying to bribe him, but because he really needed Phichit’s support right now. He wasn’t very confident that Victor had, in fact, made it out, and he had very mixed feelings about that.

 

He was working on his second coffee and spinning in his chair, trying and failing to concentrate on some paperwork when Phichit finally arrived.

 

“I take it you’re ready to talk?” Phichit observed, knowing Yuuri better than he thought he knew himself sometimes.

 

“Yeah… it’s been too long. I don’t… I don’t know if he made it out, Phichit.”

 

Phichit shook his head. “It’s _Victor_ , Yuuri, I’m sure he’s just in hiding somewhere. The man is damn near invincible.”

 

“But… Otabek.”

 

“Yeah… well, there’s that.” He paused, taking a long sip of coffee as if bracing for a battle. “So, spill. What’s really going on?”

 

Yuuri tried to take a deep breath, but his muscles were so tense it ended in an exhale that sounded more like a pathetic whimper. “Well, ok… uh, I’m not sure where to start.”

 

“So as you know he was the one that I was tracking in Frýdlant… and he managed to disarm me. Well, he had me at gunpoint… ready to shoot. And honestly, Phichit, I thought that was it, that I was done for. But as soon as I looked at him he recognized me immediately. And he started shaking… and crying. He put away his gun and told me he couldn’t shoot me. He kept apologizing, so I asked him what was going on. He did’t tell me, exactly, but he did give me a lot of information. He told me that he couldn’t kill me, even if it meant betraying Yakov.”

 

Phichit nodded as Yuuri paused, already familiar with that part of the story, but not wanting to interrupt Yuuri for fear he’d stop talking.

 

“Then… he said he had to disappear for a while, and he said… he said he knew I needed answers but he couldn’t give them to me if he was dead.” Yuuri bit his lip, trying to keep himself composed, though it probably didn’t matter. Phichit knew him too well, knew his tells, and undoubtedly knew exactly how upset Yuuri was at that moment.

 

He cleared his throat, determined to get the rest out with a steady voice. “He said if I didn’t hear anything to contact Chris and to tell him to make sure someone named ‘Yurio’ is safe. And then something about Otabek not telling, but he didn’t specify what he hadn’t told or who Otabek would have told, though I assume probably Yakov. Then he said if I followed him he wouldn’t be able to hold back because there’s - and I quote - ‘some things he will do anything to protect’.”

 

They were silent then, Yuuri waiting for Phichit to finish processing the new information, and Yuuri couldn’t help wondering if he’d done the right thing in not telling everyone to begin with. But no, he wouldn’t second guess that decision. After finally meeting again, seeing Victor, and looking into his eyes, there wasn’t much that Yuuri wouldn’t do to protect him and his confidences. He put his trust in the Victor that he’d come to know - the after Boston Victor. The Victor that was sappy, that loved his dog, that was trying to change, and that seemed determined to win Yuuri’s heart.

 

He’d finally admitted it to himself. Despite the complexity of the their relationship, despite now only having seen Victor in person twice, he had given him his heart. Now he only hoped that he would get the chance to tell Victor that his feelings were reciprocated.

 

“Ok… so there’s one thing that really isn’t making sense to me. He told you to contact Chris, but how on earth did he expect you to do that?”

 

“Oh, right, I forgot that part. You will LOVE this Phichit,” Yuuri responded, perking up a bit, and his eyes sparkling as they did when he was about to surprise someone. “Chris is actually Christophe _Giacometti_. ‘Of _that_ Giacometti family’. His exact words.”

 

“WHAAAAAT?????!!!!!!????” Phichit positively screeched.

 

Yuuri laughed, thoroughly enjoying the gobsmacked expression on Phichit’s face. “I know, right?!?! Can you _imagine_ the scandal if that got out? I mean, the man is practically royalty.”

 

“Well, realistically he _is_ royalty, just one without a monarchy.” Phichit snapped his fingers. “Switzerland! OF COURSE!!! Otabek was in Switzerland, the Giacomettis are in Switzerland, so that must be Victor’s base.”

 

Yuuri agreed, completely unsurprised that Phichit had come to that conclusion so quickly. “Yeah, I’d thought so too. And thinking on it, I suspect this Yurio person must be some sort of family relation to Victor. He seemed quite prepared to die for him, and I think that was his biggest concern that night… I mean he has to be someone important to Victor if he told _me_ to contact Christophe.”

 

“So, back to that… how exactly were you planning to do that, Yuuri? It’s not like you can just fly out to Switzerland, walk up to him and introduce yourself. ‘Oh hi, I’m Yuuri and I know all about your little hobby’… yeah no.And what are we going to do about Minako? This isn’t exactly something _small_ , Yuuri! There’s huge implications if a Giacometti has been involved in some of these thefts!”

 

“I know, I know, Phichit. Believe me, I’ve been giving it a LOT of thought since then… I’ve barely been able to think of anything else, truthfully. But… here’s how I see it. Victor and Chris aren’t reallyinvolved in organized crime anymore - or at least it doesn’t seem that way. This one is an exception, and there’s no evidence that Chris was involved - in fact he probably wasn’t if Victor’s having me pass on a message. However, they _have_ been involved in thefts of art and artefacts. That appears to be their MO, more than anything.”

 

“Oh. You’re not suggesting - ”

 

“I am,” Yuuri plowed ahead. “This is squarely in _our jurisdiction_. Investigating the activities of Victor and Chris is 100% under our authority. There’s no reason that we have to report any of this at the moment. It has nothing to do with what happened in Frýdlant, so there’s nothing to report to Minako right now. Victor gave me Luban, and I passed it on. He said he knew I needed answers, and seemed at least somewhat willing to give them to me. If or when he does, I will pass that information on to Minako. And again, if we find anything relevant, we will pass it on. But right now, locating Chris, and then Victor, is arguably still part of many of our open investigations. And just like any other open investigation, we don’t have to report every detail of what we’re doing to Celestino or anyone else until we have answers.”

 

Phichit’s eyes had been getting wider and wider the more Yuuri talked, his mouth first quirking upward then gradually settling into something that could best be described as a grimace.

 

“I have heard you self justify many a time, Yuuri, but this takes the cake. That justification is really the equivalent of dancing on the head of a pin. I’m not sure I’m going to drink your Kool-aid, but I’m willing to hold a glass of it for now and see how things play out. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’d really like to make contact with Chris. I’m DYING to know how and when he got that sleeper line in.”

 

Yuuri winced at Phichit’s response. He knew he was really playing in a grey area, but hearing Phichit put it that way reinforced just how much he was flouting his responsibilities to Interpol. But he just couldn’t stand the thought of turning the information over to Interpol for them to use to investigate Victor and Chris - not when Victor had so clearly trusted him with the knowledge of Chris’s identify, and that he’d actually give Chris his message. He couldn’t betray that trust, not now, not when there was no pressing reason to.

 

Besides, there was the whole political angle to look at. **IF** he and Phichit discovered that Chris was involved willingly and regularly with Yakov… well, that was a different story. A Giacometti getting mixed up in Yakov’s political machinations would be a disaster in international relations - especially since recently it seemed more and more like Yakov was trying to instigate war.

 

But Yuuri had to remind himself about the warning that Victor had given him about the Just Judges. Yuuri was sure that Victor had been working to thwart Yakov then. That, combined with the fact that he had said he had no choice in Frýdlant… well, Yuuri was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, for now at least. And perhaps Phichit could do with the reminder as well.

 

“Don’t forget Victor warned us with the Just Judges, Phichit. All signs pointed to the fact he was working _against_ Yakov. And he told me he wasn’t there by choice. I think we can rely on that for justification for starting the initial inquiries ourselves. I promise if we come across any information that really needs to be reported, we will.”

 

“You’re making the assumption that I won’t just report all of this myself. Yes, we’re partners, and yes you’re my best friend… but Yuuri, you’re compromised when it comes to Victor. And don’t try and deny it, don’t insult me like that. You may not have admitted it to yourself, but I know how much you care for him.”

 

“I - uh - I. Yeah, ok,” Yuuri stuttered before stopping to sigh. “Yes, Phichit, I have feelings for Victor. And yes, this is partly selfish. If I can help him, I will. Unless he gives us reason to believe otherwise, he’s changed. I believe him when he said he had no choice. He was… broken, Phichit. I can only guess that he was doing this to protect ‘Yurio’, assuming that’s actually his name. And, I know you’ll keep me honest, Phichit. I’m trusting you to make sure that I don’t screw this up.”

 

Phichit studied him a few moment before he finally smiled, apparently satisfied with whatever he saw in Yuuri’s expression. “Ok, Holmes. I’ll put my trust in you, too. You’ve at least recognized the real motivation behind what you’re doing, so I can trust that you’ll act at least somewhat rationally.”

 

Yuuri threw a notebook at Phichit, chagrinned. “PEACH!!!! I _ALWAYS_ act rationally!”

 

Phichit grinned back at him, the tension between them broken at last. “So then, I have a few thoughts on what we can do next.”

 

“Do what you do best, Watson.” Yuuri grinned back, the comfortable give and take between them taking away a weight he didn’t even know he was carrying.

 

~~~~~~

 

“I don’t know about this…” Yuuri weakly protested. “I mean, Mila? I really didn’t want to bring anyone else into this, Phichit. We’re taking enough risks as it is.”

 

Phichit snorted. “ _Now_ you choose to acknowledge the risks we’re taking???!!!? Come on, Yuuri, you know we’re both putting our asses on the line. At least trust me to minimize the potential consequences.” Phichit straightened, looking him straight in the eye. “Mila… is more than she seems. I know you know that, but Yuuri, trust me. I believe she may have a special interest when it comes to Victor, and possibly her own reasons for helping you without reporting it formally through Interpol.”

 

Yuuri raised an eyebrow, noting Phichit’s slip. “I know you’re friends with her, but that seems more like classified info, Peach.”

 

Phichit shook his head. “It’s not my story to tell- at least what I know for certain, anyway. The rest is mostly speculation, but I can tell you I have good reason to believe Mila has a … personal interest. I don’t want to say any more until I can confirm some information I came across.”

 

Yuuri eyed his friend speculatively. He’d never kept information from him before - in fact, if anything, Phichit was a font of _too_ much information. Not that he couldn’t keep a secret, but he loved showing off how much information he was able to collect, often from the most unexpected of sources. So why was he balking now? Yuuri thought back over their partnership, how time after time Phichit had shown Yuuri his loyalty, his integrity. Yuuri trusted him implicitly.

 

And that was his answer, he supposed. It really was that simple.

 

“Ok, Phichit,” he agreed, noting the surprise evident in Phichit’s countenance. “I trust you. You’ve trusted me, not just through all our years of partnership but with everything to do with Victor, and kept things confidential when I asked you to, maybe even despite your better judgement. It’s my turn to put my faith in you. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m dying to know more, but I respect the fact you have your own reasons for keeping silent. Do what you think is best, and let me know what you need me to do.”

 

“Yuuuuuuurrrrrriiiiii!!!!!” Phichit squealed as he left up and threw himself at Yuuri in a sudden embrace. “ _This_ is why we’ll always be best bros!” Phichit stood up, turning away as Yuuri caught a glimpse of a suspicious wetness around his eye. “Ok, leave Mila to me. We’ll come up with a plan for contacting Chris that won’t get us thrown out on our asses or start an international incident.”

 

Yuuri smiled at his best friend, truly feeling the weight of his burden lifted. He was still worried for Victor, but sharing that worry and having support to come up with a plan made a world of difference.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Giacometti is actually an Italian name, derived from the name Jacob. I couldn’t do anything with that historically, so we’ll just believe for the sake of the story that it’s a ‘royal’ family connected to the Habsburgs. Heck, I knew a crown prince (whose family was stripped of their title) in my early twenties, so weirder things have happened.
> 
> Minako’s use of “Don Juan” was very deliberate.
> 
> https://www.britannica.com/topic/Don-Juan-fictional-character
> 
> Next chapter we go back to Victor and see how he’s faring.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor is on the run, but finds help from a former associate. But at what cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now a return to Victor's POV.
> 
> All I can say is when you have some time street view areas in the Czech Republic. It’s STUNNING. So beautiful. And poignant with the ruins of buildings. I was so stunned by the countryside and Liberec. I’d love to travel there someday.
> 
> So, in Czech they speak Czech, and some minority languages. We are going to pretend that Victor understands all Slavic root languages for the sake of the story.

Victor’s heart had never pounded so hard.

 

But he was somehow still alive.

 

That was the only rational thought he could manage as he fled from Yuuri, from the love of his life and his sole remaining hope of salvation.

 

Former hope.

 

He had no illusions Yuuri would ever forgive him.

 

He let himself be driven by instinct, flitting silently from shadow to shadow as he made his way through the countryside, putting as much distance as he could between himself and Frýdlant. It was probably an hour later when the adrenalin started to fade and he found himself finally able to think about what had just happened and what he had just done.

 

He had escaped Interpol (for now).

 

He had betrayed Yakov in so many ways.

 

He had _finally_ seen his Yuuri in person again.

 

He had told Yuuri Chris’s real identity.

 

He breathed out heavily. He wasn’t sure whether he’d screwed up massively by trusting Yuuri with the last, or whether it could, as he hoped, save Yurio. Victor knew that Chris would do whatever he could to hide Yurio, and making sure Chris knew that Otabek hadn’t yet told was vital. Otherwise everything he’d done for the last 14 years was for nothing.

 

He’d paused at the edge of an outcropping of trees, catching his breath and taking a good look at his surroundings. He took the opportunity to take stock of himself and consider his next move. Whatever he did in the next few hours would determine his survival, and possibly Yurio’s as well. He needed Yakov to think he was dead, and needed to disappear quickly somewhere Yakov didn’t have allies.

 

But, first things first. He needed clothes. He was still in his catsuit which he obviously couldn’t wear in public. He needed something to cover his hair, and probably some food and water so he could avoid approaching towns for a while. He pulled out his phone, knowing that he needed to cut off all his ties immediately, even if it meant Chris had no way to track him. Extracting the SIM card, he threw it on the ground and used his heel to grind it to shreds. The phone itself needed to be destroyed as well, so Victor repeatedly crushed it against the tree he had been leaning on until it was unrecognizable. The case itself he saved - he’d destroy it along with his suit.

 

Looking down at the remnants of his phone, he nodded to himself and quickly scattered the debris with his foot, ensuring no one would notice the garbage with a casual glance. He peered around the countryside and spotting a farmhouse close by, made a run for it. On feet as silent as a mouse he made his way into the house through an unlocked door and found the room reserved for laundry. Rifling through the clothes he managed to find a rough work shirt that would fit. No luck with pants, but he would hit up another house for those. Best not to take everything from one house anyway.

 

Sneaking back out through the kitchen, he grabbed a muffin from the collection of baking on the counter, knowing it was unlikely to be missed.

 

He passed the rest of the night in a similar fashion, moving quickly across the countryside and flitting from house to house, procuring the clothing he needed and some food.

 

~~~~~~

 

It was about 5:30 amfrom what Victor estimated from the last clock he’d seen in the unremarkable farmhouse that had yielded him a thermos and some water.

 

He now found himself in a house larger than the rest he’d entered, and about halfway back to Liberec, which was the nearest urban centre where he’d be able to find what he needed to travel a longer distance. Although he’d skirted the road, his memory of the initial trip didn’t fail him, and he’d come across many houses along the way, grabbing what he could without arousing suspicion. At worst they would just think they’d misplaced something. At this house, however, Victor had taken his biggest risk.

 

He’d taken the time to give himself a sponge bath the best he could, knowing that a dishevelled appearance would just cause him to attract more notice Though the added benefit was definitely a clearer mind that came with the application of extremely cold water.

 

He had also managed to find a messenger bag which had been stuffed in a cupboard in the home’s mudroom. It didn’t look like it was being used, but at the same time, of everything he’d managed to find, it was the most identifiable. But he needed somewhere to put his suit until he could get rid of it safely, as well as the supplies he’d be picking up.

 

He cleaned up carefully, erasing all of the traces of his presence that he could. The inhabitants would find a couple wash cloths added to their laundry, but hopefully they wouldn’t notice. He finished up by drying the sink, tossed the cloth with the other laundry and headed out. Even though it was winter, he expected that as farm people, they’d be waking soon despite the late sunrise.

 

Striding quickly to some nearby tree cover, he pulled out the messenger bag so he could pack it properly. As he organized the few things he’d managed to collect, he wondered what Yuuri was doing. Cleaning up the scene, maybe? Evaluating the evidence for certain…maybe he’d be on his way to Luban in search of the crates they’d managed to send.

 

But at least he’d be alive.

 

Whatever happened, Victor knew he’d never regret sparing Yuuri’s life. It was perhaps the only thing he’d done on this job he felt good about. A pang of regret stabbed at him at the memory of the gunshots which had undoubtedly ended the lives of innocents.

 

He worked efficiently to remove the necessities from his catsuit. He’d always made sure he was self sufficient, so there were a number of items sewn in strategically - the most useful of which was a collection of prepaid credit cards. He’d been careful to purchase them from random locations all over both Europe and North America, so there was no tracing them. They ranged from a mere $25 that he could use if he had to appear as a poor traveler, up to $10k, and they totalled around $250k. It wasn’t a great contingency fund, as it would barely get him anywhere if he had to get anything like a passport forged, but it was enough to get by for now. Hopefully he’d be able to contact Chris sooner rather than later and gain access to more resources.

 

He finished organizing his meagre (stolen) belongings, and, having transformed himself into a typical traveler, he carefully tucked his hair up into his new hat and continued on his way to Liberec.

 

~~~~~~

 

It was nearly 8:00 am when he entered Liberec, the perfect timing as the citizens were stirring, businesses getting ready to open for the day, and he found himself able to blend in perfectly with those out and about. He’d been lucky and had found a small amount of local currency in the messenger bag - pocket change really, but enough to pay for a coffee and pastry at a cafe that catered to the early morning crowd. Huddled inside and slowly sipping his coffee, Victor considered his options.

 

The first question was, could he manage this alone, or did he need help? Getting out of the country and somewhere away from Yakov was going to be the most difficult since he didn’t have a passport or any ID on him. He frowned, making a mental note to ensure that if he ever did another job, he’d include some fake ID somewhere in his catsuit. But back to business, he could manage it on his own, but his only options were to go through countries where Yakov exerted a lot of influence, or try to head south. But if south was the best option, he was going to need ID. There was no way he’d be able to avoid it.

 

Which meant trying to find help. He wracked his brain, trying to recall a contact, a friend of a friend… even a rumour of someone would help at this point. He sat up straight, suddenly remembering that there was someone perfect, who as it happened, also happened to be nearby.

 

It had been a while - a long while - but he had once hired a mercenary to do some very specific work on one job that was outside his or Chris’s expertise. The mercenary’s name was Emil, he recalled, and he was based out of Brno, a city in the southeast corner of the country. He was a friendly guy, so much so that no one would ever guess his profession from his appearance and demeanour.

 

The only thing was, Emil was bound pretty tightly with the Crispino clan from Italy… but that might actually work to his advantage since no one would think he’d be anywhere near that sort of organization. It was currently being run by twins, and from all he had heard, the woman was a strong leader, but her brother was a bit… odd. Still, the last thing he needed was finding himself bound to another criminal group.

 

Victor pondered further, about how far he could get on credit cards alone with no ID and no help, and finally concluded that Emil was the best option. While there were others, they were on different continents, so if he wanted to elude Yakov, Emil was definitely the best bet. He grimaced. Even if it meant dealing with the Crispinos.

 

Nearing the end of his coffee, he let the warmth sink into him as he accepted the idea. He wasn’t sure why exactly, but his instincts were telling him that was what he should do. Resolved, he inhaled deeply, calming himself and trying to shake off his exhaustion. He needed to make his way to a bank first, with one of the lower denomination credit cards, then figure out how to get to Brno.

 

Thank goodness for Europe’s dedication to public transportation.

 

~~~~~~

 

It turned out the trip to Brno involved mostly a bus, with a stop in Prague that had his skin crawling the entire time. He had a hat covering his hair, but he was paranoid with every step, knowing there were cameras everywhere. He kept his head down, and his arm up - scratching his head, rubbing his mouth, his nose, anything just to interfere with the cameras getting a read on his face. He knew from Chris even the smallest frame of his whole face would allow them to use facial recognition to track him.

 

Luckily the break between bus and train and bus again wasn’t too long, and he soon found himself settled in a window seat and alone for the final leg of his journey. Watching the countryside speed by, he felt his eyes close on their own accord and let himself be pulled into a much needed doze.

 

About three hours later he was roused by the noise of his fellow passengers collecting their belongings as they prepared to disembark at their final destination. He, too, got up and followed everyone off the bus, stretching his legs gratefully once he was on solid ground. The first thing he needed to do was find a library to access an account he kept secret, even from Chris.

 

Having received directions from one of the disembarked passengers, Victor made his way to the library without dawdling further, glad for the walk to shake off the remnants of his nap and clear his head. The air was crisp, not as cold as it had been in Frýdlant, but a definite reminder that it was the middle of winter.

 

He arrived at the library, and marvelled for a moment at the surprisingly modern structure. He’d been expecting it to be in an old, musty smelling building, but the library in front of him was modern and vibrant, and obviously well used. He entered and started exploring, not wanting to attract any attention by going straight to the public computers. Finding the travel section, he pulled a few books off the shelf to take with him for the appearance of doing some research.

 

He sat down at one of the terminals provided for public internet access and opened a couple travel websites to keep up appearances. After browsing around for a few minutes, he logged into a drop box where he kept documents with contacts, passwords, and other information he might need if he ever found himself in… well, exactly the situation he was in now. He opened the document with his contacts and scrolled down until he found the entry for Emil. All of the contacts were labeled with nicknames so he didn’t have to worry about someone seeing his screen.

 

His nickname for Emil was ‘Teddy Bear’, for the man was unexpectedly soft and friendly… and maybe a little furry in appearance with his facial hair. He quickly wrote down the contact info and protocol on a scrap of paper provided for note taking and exited out of the document. He wandered back to the shelves, returning the books he’d grabbed as he went.

 

After leaving the library he found a nearby cafe where he ordered a much needed sandwich and yet another coffee. It was now mid afternoon, and he figured he’d need to try and make contact with Emil as soon as possible then find a place to stay. The cafe was slow, so he ate quickly, not wanting to encourage the overly friendly staff to make conversation.

 

That overly friendly staff was, however, quite useful in directing him to store where he could pick up a prepaid phone. He’d made the excuse that he’d dropped his and he just needed something until he got back home to Russia.

 

New phone in hand, Victor found himself in a nearby park, watching some dogs play. He wondered how his Makka was doing, and if he’d be so lucky to see her again. His chest tightened as he thought of home, of his brother, and whether he’d ever get to see them again. At least Chris had access to his money so if he didn’t return Yurio would be ok financially.

 

Victor looked down at the ground, suddenly overcome. Maybe it would be better that way, he thought. Maybe if he was out of the picture Yurio could actually skate competitively and fulfill his dreams. Chris would probably adopt him, and he’d be able to step out in the world without the danger of Victor’s reputation following him like some sort of shadow being, perhaps like the Nalusa Chito in the myths of the Choctaw.

 

He took a deep, shuddering breath and shook away the melancholy that had so suddenly consumed him. He couldn’t think like that - Yurio was _family_ , and Victor had been all he’d had for the last 14 years. Victor knew deep in his heart that Yurio didn’t feel that way, that he didn’t resent having to stay out of the public eye even if it meant not pursuing some of his dreams. Despite his attitude and his seemingly endless well of anger, Victor knew that Yurio loved him deeply, in some ways as more of a father figure than a brother. He also knew that Yurio understood everything that Victor had done was for him.

 

He took his phone out and dialled his contact number, surprised when it was answered with a curt “yes” after only two rings.

 

“It’s me, Ivan. I’m seeking assistance.”

 

“What makes your eyes so red today, Ivan?”

 

“The wind, blowing in them.”

 

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the phone before Emil responded.

 

“I didn’t expect to hear from you again… especially if what I’m hearing is true.”

 

“Like Ivan, I’m looking to escape my sister. She devours everything in her sight without care or regard for its value.”

 

Emil snorted, the sound exaggerated over the phone line. “Well, that’s one way of putting it, I suppose. Who knew you had a poetic side?”

 

“Well, we both know my soul is dedicated to the arts.”

 

Emil howled at that, a full bellied laugh that lasted a good minute. “Oh, Ivan, I never knew you had such a sense of humour.” He paused, clearing his throat. “I think I know what brings you my way. I’m not unwilling to help you out - after all, if you make it through, you’ll owe me quite the favour. And for this, you’ll really have to make it worth my while.”

 

“Understood. You willing to meet?”

 

“…Yeah. I’ll text you the details.” The line went dead, Emil hanging up unceremoniously.

 

Victor rubbed his temple, a headache that had been developing for a while was letting itself be known. He leaned back on the bench he’d taken over, tilting his head back and feeling the icy breeze ruffle his bangs and cause the nerves in his cheeks to tingle just slightly. He rubbed his nose absently, noting it had already become a little numb from the length of time he’d been sitting still, and stood up to leave. He’d been there long enough, and any longer would make him seem like some sort of… criminal.

 

Oh, the irony of that thought.

 

~~~~~~

 

Emil must have been intrigued (or desperate for Victor’s skills) since Victor got a text from him not even an hour later setting up a meeting that evening. Victor spent the time before their meetingfinding a hotel (decent, but something a couple traveling on a budget would choose), and finding dinner. After the sleepy, familial feel of Frýdlant, it was almost jarring to be in such a large urban centre, with anonymity the preference over the nosy but well meaning neighbours he’d become accustomed to avoiding.

 

Victor indulged in a long, hot shower before meeting Emil, finally washing the remnants of that dingy cellar from him completely. Not to mention the grime that had accumulated during his subsequent flight through the countryside. It was hard to believe that it hadn’t even been 24 hours since he’d gone back to the manor house, and somewhere around 16 since he’d fled.

 

The address that Emil had given him turned out to belong to a historic apartment block near the centre of town. Victor climbed the stairs, somewhat wary, though he knew that it wasn’t likely that Emil would have any reason for violence. After all, The Crispinos and Yakov were at odds, so he knew at least there was no risk of someone turning him over to Yakov. No, if anything, he knew he’d be a valuable to them as a source of information on Yakov’s operations.

 

The door he found himself in front of was no different than the rest; an old heavy wooden door with too many layers of paint yet overdo for another coat. He’d noted on his way down the hall some subtly placed cameras. Undoubtedly Emil had been watching his progress since he’d entered the building.

 

He knocked softly without hesitating, unsurprised when the door was opened almost immediately, though he was surprised that it was Emil himself who had opened it. He had assumed he’d be faced with some lackey. Then again, Emil was a mercenary so it wasn’t completely unexpected that he worked alone.

 

Not a word was spoken as Emil led Victor into the apartment. The interior existed in an entirely different era than the exterior and common areas of the building. It was crisp and modern, with shiny unmarked dark hardwood floors that contrasted with stark white walls. The contrast was broken up with the occasional print of graphic art on the wall, the colours brilliant and images confusing. Victor, of course, had a deep appreciation for art, but he had to admit he didn’t care much for this particular modern style that had come in fashion.

 

He sat down on the chair Emil indicated in a room that looked like it was being used as a combination office/parlour and waited until Emil settled before speaking. “Thanks for agreeing to see me with such short notice.”

 

Emil nodded as he responded, “I don’t suppose you’ve had a chance to check the news as yet?”

 

“No, though I don’t know how useful the news will be. Interpol usually keeps things wrapped up pretty tight so I wasn’t expecting to see anything… truthfully I was surprised that you had heard about what was going on, even though it is in your ‘home turf’ so to speak. Unless - has Russiamade some sort of fuss?” Victor wondered if perhaps Yuuri hadn’t gotten to Luban fast enough and the crates they’d managed to get across the border had wound up in Yakov’s hands after all. Well. That would cause political havoc.

 

“Oh it’s in the news alright, but I guess you haven’t heard. A government official confirmed that the Amber Room was located in the cellar in Frýdlant Castle. The international press and a horde of so-called treasure hunters are crawling all over Frýdlant. So is the Czech military for that matter. Russia hasn’t made a statement yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”

 

Victor went tense at the mention of Frýdlant Castle, almost forgetting to listen to the rest.

 

Shit. _Chris_. He must have missed one of his check-ins. But when? Victor’s mind raced, trying to reconstruct yesterday with this new knowledge. …ah, must have been when he was napping before going back to the house that night, he realized. He’d been absolutely exhausted and must have slept through the buzzing. It was uncharacteristically careless of him.

 

“But how did you know I was involved? I could see you suspecting Yakov, but you know I don’t work for him anymore.”

 

Emil smiled tightly in response. “Don’t kid yourself, Victor. No one _really_ gets away from Yakov. And I know you’ve done the odd job for him the last few years. But truthfully… I already knew there was a bunch of Yakov’s men snooping around,and once the Amber Room was mentioned I knew you must have been with them. Yakov doesn’t have anyone else capable of securing the panels. Honestly, I was hoping you’d made it out. Right now the unofficial word is only one of Yakov’s ‘men’ survived, but she’s in a coma. But the total number of dead have yet to be reported.”

 

“ _Anya_?” Victor asked, a little incredulous. He was certain Anya would have opted for the pill instead, given her seemingly unending loyalty to Yakov.

 

“I have it on good authority that the agents sent to deal with you guys had an antidote to Yakov’s favourite poison. They didn’t want another incident like Omsk. Yakov’s going to be PISSED!” Emil laughed. “Serves him right too, only a monster would force poison pills on everyone.”

 

Victor silently agreed with him as he absent-mindedly ran his tongue over his own. It was one more thing on his list that he had to take care of. And the sooner the better.

 

Emil looked at him speculatively. “I imagine that’s one of the first things you need taken care of?”

 

“Currently I’m more worried about disappearing from view. The last thing I need is Otabek finding me. I’ve already had the pleasure once of experiencing his company in person. He seems a nice enough guy, but I don’t care to repeat the experience.”

 

Emil whistled. “Wow, what did you do Nikiforov, that got Otabek visiting Yakov’s favourite child?”

 

Victor shrugged. “I may have gotten to something he was looking for before he did. And… uh, sold it to a different buyer.”

 

The sound of Emil’s disbelieving laughter echoed through the room. “Wow, you don’t do anything small do you? What’s the saying in America? ‘Go big or go home’?”

 

Victor’s lip quirked as he realized just how ridiculous his actions looked to others.

 

“Yes, well,I had my reasons. And it wasn’t money.”

 

Emil raised his eyebrow at that, but let the topic die. “Well, anyway, now that you’re up to speed with current events, let’s talk about what it is you want from me. You mentioned disappearing, what did you have in mind?”

 

“I’m not sure yet. I have access to some funds, but I can’t touch any of my usual resources until this blows over. I need to make sure that either Otabek doesn’t find out I survived or that I have enough protection it doesn’t matter.”

 

“That’s not a small ask, you realize? You’ll owe me quite a lot if I help you out.”

 

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem. We’ve been useful to each other in the past, and I’m certain our continued association will prove to be lucrative in the future.”

 

He waited while Emil looked him over, making his own assessment of his sincerity and weighing the benefits against the risks. After a few long moments, he responded, “As it so happens, I have some associates who are looking for someone with the particular expertise you have.”

 

Victor interrupted, making a face, “Let me guess, the Crispinos.”

 

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” Emil admonished. “The Crispinos are one of the few groups that have the resources, inclination and ability to protect you from Yakov. You should consider yourself more than fortunate that this opportunity arose when it did.”

 

Victor looked down for a moment, knowing Emil was right. He sighed. “Sorry, Emil… it’s just… Michele …”

 

“What’s wrong with Mickey??!!!?” Emil asked incredulously.

 

“Uh… the whole… Sara thing… like he’s ready to kill anyone who comes within a 3 foot radius of her. It really makes it hard to do any business.”

 

Emil guffawed, waving a hand in dismissal. “Ignore Mickey. He’s all bark and no bite. Sara will never let him get out of line. He may threaten but he doesn’t dare act until he gets her approval.”

 

“…okay… you’re more familiar with them than I’d heard.”

 

“And we keep it that way for a reason,” Emil, responding glaring. “I think you of all people understand the need for some privacy.”

 

Victor nodded, acknowledging his own reputation for privacy. Everyone knew his name, knew his talents and some of his affiliations; but his background, his true supporters were completely unknown. He was called a ghost by many, reflective of both his hair colour (for the few that had seen it) and the fact that he tended to flit into existence here and there, never staying anywhere long enough o make a solid impression.

 

“So what is this job that suits someone with my ‘particular expertise’?”

 

‘The Crispinos want Caravaggio’s Nativity back. For the attempt, I’ll give you ID, travel documents and assistance. If you succeed, they’ll give you protection. Until you can make your own arrangements.”

 

It was hardly a fair deal. Caravaggio’s Nativity had been stolen in 1969 by a rival family. Rumours had placed it in Switzerland, but Victor knew the broker that had briefly tried to sell it had been killed and the painting taken elsewhere. Wherever it was, it was undoubtedly held by some criminal organization and getting it back would be no small feat. Not to mention he could be making another enemy to rival Yakov.

 

…but at the same time, he knew they had him. At the moment without the resources to get travel documents he was pretty much stuck in the country - and no doubt with an angry Otabek on his tail. Victor knew when the number of dead came out Yakov would know he’d escaped. “Before I agree, I have a few questions.”

 

Emil nodded at him to proceed. “First, do you know where it’s currently located, or are we starting from scratch?”

 

“Oh, we know. They’ve known all along.”

 

“Ok, and what can you provide in terms of scoping? I usually have my own expert who scopes the location, deals with security and hacks whatever systems need hacking. I can’t engage him right now. Is such an expert included in the ‘assistance’ you said you’d provide?”

 

Emil smirked at him. “Of course. We’re not that stupid, Victor. The end goal is to get the painting. We have no reason to set you up for failure. I’ll readily admit we have no reason to be invested in your survival beyond making sure the painting arrives safely, but I think the goals of the Crispinos and yourself are not mutually exclusive.”

 

Victor was silent as he contemplated what had been said, and what had been offered. He had to admit, though it was far from ideal, it was probably the best chance he had of escaping this alive. And if he was caught… well, his manner of death would be more pleasant than it would be at the hands of Yakov. So really… what did he have to lose?

 

“Ok, I’m in. But I want to talk to Sara personally to verify what you’ve said before we take any action.”

 

“Of course, Victor. We had anticipated that, and she’s waiting for your call now.”

 

~~~~~~

 

Hours later Victor found himself back at his hotel, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling unable to sleep. He’d talked at length with both Sara and Emil, and thought that they’d at least be able to come up with a workable plan. It turned out the Don of the Crispino family was on his deathbed and Sara wanted to return the painting to her father as his dying wish. According to her he had arranged the original theft way back in 1969 because he loved the painting so much he wanted to be able to appreciate it every day. Given that, Victor had a hard time finding ill motives with this heist. While it wasn’t returning the painting to its rightful place, it was at least returning it to someone who loved it and treasured it for the beauty it held, rather than its monetary value.

 

Not that it mattered when he was this desperate. But it was somewhat of a consolation.

 

Becoming uncomfortable from the worn springs and thin pillow, he rolled on his side and transferred his stare to the wall. He wondered when (if) he’d be able to contact Chris… and Yuuri. For now, he needed to put thoughts of Yuuri out of his mind. He didn’t even know if Yuuri would appreciate the contact, especially after knowing he’d participated in a job that involved kidnapping… and murder if the shots he’d heard were what he thought they were.

 

Turning his mind back to Chris he thought about the fact hat he had activated their contingency plan. Poor Chris must be worried… it had now been over 24 hours since Victor must have missed his check in. He’d never gone longer than 24 hours before, so Chris must know he was either in dire straits or dead…

 

They’d made plans for this, and he knew that Chris would take care of Yurio for him… but he was deeply sorry that Chris would have to tell him Victor was missing. Yurio would be pissed for sure. The poor boy had lived his life with the possibility always in the back of his mind - no wonder he had so much anger built up. It had to be hard knowing that the only one you called family and depended on could be gone at any moment.

 

And though he felt guilty, he knew he hadn’t had any other choice. He’d done his best for Yurio, and he hoped he would understand that someday… whether or not Victor was able to return.

 

Finally he closed his eyes and let himself succumb to the exhaustion that he’d been fighting all day. The adrenalin had long ago worn off, and he’d been keeping himself going through sheer force of will. As he drifted off the memory of deep brown eyes came to the surface, glimmering in recognition as he met Victor’s gaze, and he let himself dream of a day he could wake to those same eyes every morning.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how much you can put on a prepaid credit card - suspend belief!!!
> 
> The Moravian Library in Brno:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moravian_Library
> 
> Nalusa Chito:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Choctaw_mythology
> 
> Emil’s communication protocol from “The Witch and the Sun’s Sister”. Which may be fairly appropriate to the backstory. Translation and reference from Project Gutenberg:
> 
> https://www.gutenberg.org/files/22373/22373-h/22373-h.htm#Page_178
> 
> More info on Caravaggio’s Nativity next chapter. Which isn't quite finished yet and is stressing me out :(


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor acquires Caravaggio’s Nativity for the Crispinos and finds himself (temporarily) safe from Yakov.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although I’ve alluded to Yakov’s political motives, I’m not going to delve into them since it’s not the focus of the story and I don’t have a good enough understanding of political science to come up with something that’s halfway believable. So just trust Minako and Interpol will deal with it.
> 
> Background on Caravaggio’s Nativity:
> 
> https://www.theartnewspaper.com/feature/lost-art-has-caravaggio-s-long-missing-nativity-been-found
> 
> I still can’t believe I managed to find a “lost” painting that fit so perfectly well into the story.

The next day was busy as Emil connected with the necessary people and arranged various pieces of identification and travel documents for Victor. But finally, he held the ticket to his freedom in his hand… or at least his ticket out of the Czech Republic.

 

Victor had spent his time at Emil’s apartment researching the location of the painting the Crispinos had provided and coming up with a solid plan. Emil had quickly been able to connect him with a hacker of sorts. He was nowhere near Chris’s capability, but Seung-gil Lee seemed competent enough, and certainly was on a different level than the goons he’d had to deal with in Frýdlant. ‘Yakov’s best,’ he scoffed. They’d been mostly amateurs with a misplaced sense of loyalty.

 

And that misplaced sense of loyalty meant that now they were all dead. All except Anya it seemed. Emil hadn’t been able to get a lot of intelligence on what had happened, other than it seemed that Anya was still alive. The news had reported the deaths of the family, but Interpol had remained tight lipped. He wasn’t surprised though as tensions between Russia, Germany and the Czech governments were escalating to who knew what end. He wondered if this was Yakov’s aim… he just couldn’t make sense of what the plan was, and truthfully, he didn’t want to know. But whatever the plan was, even Emil agreed it was all the more reason to hightail it out of the country.

 

Both Emil and Victor were glued to the news that night, trying to make heads or tails of the situation up north. Emil’s sources had scattered, not wanting to be involved, which in itself was not a good sign. From the information they had and what they could safely speculate, it seemed that Interpol must have found the missing crates and was busy trying to soothe Russia while both the Czech and German governments stayed in full defensive mode.

 

Emil had convinced Victor to explain the ploy behind the fake government official announcing the location of the treasure. Victor was careful not to give out too many details, just let him know that it had been a contingency plan that had been activated when he had failed to check in. Emil, having his own secrets, didn’t push him for details, but just laughed heartily at the explanation saying that it had worked perhaps better than expected.

 

And he was right. In the resulting chaos, between the deaths of the family and the confusion caused by the crowds and sudden appearance of the military, almost no information was coming in or out of Frýdlant. No one wanted to get caught in the crossfire, and the underworld knew very well that Yakov was involved, adding to the danger. Victor knew eventually the body count would be made public and he was operating on limited time - but time that he was determined to make the best of. If he could get that painting and make it to the Crispino home in Naples, he’d have a fighting chance. Of course he’d be going from being tied to one mafia to another mafia, but from what he’d heard about the Crispinos it was preferable to Yakov’s group. Emil certainly seemed unbothered by his connection, and if his hearty demeanour was anything to go by, he wasn’t the least bit concerned by what they were about to do. Victor had gotten to know him somewhat since he’d arrived, and from what he could tell Emil has a man who outwardly seemed almost too jovial, but Victor had seen through the veneer and recognized him as a person who observed closely, judged carefully and stepped cautiously.

 

They were scheduled to leave the next day, taking a noon bus down to Vienna. While Victor groaned internally at the thought of another bus, the trip was only around two hours and he had to admit that Emil had a point about not wanting to have to worry about what they’d do with a vehicle that originated from the Czech Republic when they got there. This way they’d be able to hire a local car anonymously and dump it when and where they had to without worry.

 

The Crispinos had confirmed the painting was just outside Milan - it was in the home of the lover ofthe head of the Favro family that had just died. After hearing which family had the painting, Victor wasn’t quite as worried. It was a smaller family, and there weren’t exactly known for their competence. They probably wouldn’t even figure out that it was Victor.

 

According to Sara, they had a small window where the family would be too involved with deciding the successor and infighting to claim the painting from the woman’s home.It seemed almost fated to the Crispinos that Victor had appeared when he did - his skills absolutely perfect for this type of theft, and someone who, if spotted in the area, wouldn’t be immediately associated with the Crispino family. No wonder Emil had arranged a meeting, Victor had thought when he’d come to understand the whole situation. He had to admit, it seemed fated to himself as well, too _lucky_ considering everything that life had thrown at him thus far. But he decided to take Emil’s advice and not look a gift horse in the mouth. He’d do the job, become one of the many associates of the Crispinos and _survive_. It was the only possible way back to Yurio.

 

Shoving those thoughts aside, he resumed going over their travel plans. After arriving in Vienna, they’d secure a vehicle and make their way south, traveling through Slovenia and then turning west to reach northern Italy. They could have taken a train from Vienna, but Victor wasn’t in the mood for an 11 hour train ride, and Emil didn’t disagree. Instead they’d drive to Venice from Vienna, stopping overnight in Ljubljana. Once they reached Venice they’d ditch the rental from Vienna and take the train to Milan, picking up another vehicle when they arrived. Their plan had the benefit of being harder to trace if anyone happened to spot them along the way.

 

He mulled things over a while, thinking of the risks and possible contingencies they’d come up with and felt satisfied. The plan was as solid as it could be, and so finally allowing his thoughts to calm, he got himself ready for bed. He needed to be at his best and a good sleep was essential.

 

~~~~~~

 

They arrived in Ljubljana just after 7:00 pm - the perfect time to find a hotel and a cafe for dinner. Emil was fairly familiar with the city, having traveled through on more than one occasion on his way to or from seeing the Crispinos… or rather, Victor thought, when he went to see Mickey. Victor allowed him to decide on the hotel and restaurant without much input, trusting Emil’s judgment in the matter.

 

They spent some time relaxing at dinner, making light conversation discussing the city and the countryside they’d passed through. Emil spoke of some interesting historical anecdotes, having apparently spent enough time in the area playing tourist to have retained some of the information provided by tourist guides in those sorts of anonymous tours that most tourists flocked to.

 

Both men agreed they should retire early. They had everything as nailed down as they could until they could observe the situation for themselves, so there was no point in going over their preliminary plans.

 

They would take the train that departed from Venice just after 2 pm and would arrive in Milan around 4:30, leaving them with enough time to pick up a rental car and decide where to stay. After they had settled they’d figure out how to do the necessary reconnaissance.

 

After settling himself in bed, Victor had a hard time settling down to sleep. The anticipation of what was to come was just too great. It wasn’t that he was nervous for this next heist - no, from what he could tell it would be one of the more simple jobs that he had done. If he was honest with himself, he was looking forward to it, as it was exactly the type of job he enjoyed. It would be a quick in and out, and involved a masterpiece that he would have the privilege to see and enjoy.

 

No, his anticipation was focused on whether he’d be spotted and his survival reported to Yakov and also what his future with the Crispinos would look like. It had been a long time since Victor had had his future almost entirely in the hands of others, and he wasn’t one bit comfortable with it. He’d fought so hard to have control over his own life (and Yurio’s) that giving up that control now was all the harder.

 

He pushed those thoughts out of his mind and tried some meditation exercises he commonly used to calm his mind before a big job. Eventually his mind calmed and he was drawn into an uneasy sleep.

 

~~~~~~

 

Despite the fact that everything was going to plan so far, Victor found he was still unable to relax. They’d arrived in Milan, picked up a car, settled in a hotel near Navigli and had taken advantage of their proximity to Navigli to grab some street food for dinner.

 

They were currently on their way to the house which was southwest of the city a little ways. Victor knew he’d feel better once he’d seen the area and could make some more definite plans. Seung- gil was operating from somewhere nearby, and would be available to extract them as a back up plan if things went sour. Other than that, Victor had been told they wouldn’t meet, and he was fine with that. After all, he was the same way with Chris. On the few occasions he’d had to bring in another person, he had never once let anyone near Chris. The most anyone knew about him was a disembodied voice in an earpiece, and even that had been disguised.

 

“We’re almost there,” Emil announced, his demeanour having become serious. There was no evidence of the friendly ‘teddy bear’ he normally resembled. “It should be coming up on the right. We’ll drive past and start getting an idea of the area before we do any closer reconnaissance.”

 

Victor turned his head just in time tocatch the glimpse of a tower that undoubtedly belonged to a castle peering above the tips of the trees. “Let me guess,” he asked sardonically, “that’s thetarget.”

 

Emil chuckled in response. “Looks like it. No wonder Seung-gil couldn’t find any blueprints.

 

“You know… we could have saved ourselves the surprise and just used Google street view…”

 

Emil quirked an eyebrow in response. “Yes, we could have, but what would be the fun in that? Besides, we need to see it with our own eyes, get a feel of the place.”

 

“True enough,” Victor responded rather absently. He was doing exactly what Emil had just described, looking around the countryside and identifying groups of trees, areas that looked like they were less well traveled than others. They’d need to plot out a number of escape routes and places where they could hide if necessary.

 

They drove around for a little while before Emil pulled into a long driveway that was more of a suggestion of a road than anything else. It turned sharply shortly after they left the main road, and Emil stopped the car there, just out of view of the road. After a short discussion, they went their separate ways. Emil was going to do some snooping around the area while Victor would get closer to the house and take a good look around. They’d both be taking some video for Seung-gil to analyze. The most difficult thing about this would be assessing the security at the house. As Victor knew from experience, those old castles took some creative wiring and placement of cameras, etc in order to get decent security. It wouldn’t be easy to figure out the system.

 

As Victor got closer he couldn’t help the art lover in him from admiring the castle. It looked to have been constructed something in the 13th century from the look of the style. The tower wasn’t large, but still impressive with the decorative stonework.

 

He crept along the perimeter of the property, noting that there didn’t appear to be any fences, the owners relying on natural hedging to keep intruders out. Of course, Victor reminded himself, this was merely the house of the deceased Don’s lover, so security wouldn’t need to be as tight. That would work to their advantage.

 

He climbed a tree on a neighbouring property to get a better look. It appeared the tower was in the centre of the house with a wing off each side, forming a courtyard in the centre. He moved around the property to get a view on the opposite side, where he found that another courtyard separated the house from a fairly busy street directly beside it on the one side. It was an interesting dichotomy, this ancient castle surrounded by more modern buildings and streets.

 

Victor activated an app on his phone that Emil had installed. Well, that Seung-gil had installed when Emil had met with him earlier that night. The app was similar to something that Chris used as far as he could tell. It was designed to passively search for wireless networks. Just like his own home, he guessed that the security system of the target had to rely on wireless communication, at least in part. With the thickness of the old stone, it was nearly impossible to completely wire a system if the owner wanted full coverage. They hadn’t known (or maybe Seung-gil had) that the target was a castle, but it never hurt to assess what kinds of wireless technology were being used.

 

Victor smirked a bit to himself, thinking of the wireless home ‘revolution’ that was going on in the US. Everyone was hopping on the bandwagon of the automated home; of voice controls, bluetooth, AI and integration between all those apps. What they didn’t realize was how easy it was to hack into those systems and gain all sorts of information about the homeowners. Everything from their grocery list to their schedule… who was home when and whether they were awake or asleep… it was all available to anyone who wanted to know.

 

There was a small green flash as the app registered that it was done scanning, and Victor shook himself out of his thoughts and mentally plotted his route back to the car. The information gathered from that app would help him put together a plan, but he already found inspiration bubbling under the surface as he contemplated the dark windows just peeping above ground level. Basements were usually the easiest to gain access to, and this home seemed to have a multitude of windows that would give him the opportunity.

 

Victor and Emil didn’t talk too much on the way back, both finding themselves preoccupied with analyzing the possibilities for entry and exist. They were hoping to go in sometime in the next 24 hours in the hope that the Favro family would still be too occupied with their internal issues to think of reclaiming the painting. And if the girlfriend of the former Don was smart, she’d be keeping her head down and her mouth shut.

 

~~~~~~

 

They had spent much of the night talking and consulting with Seung-gil until they came up with a good working plan, with several contingency plans both for getting in and getting out. Seung-gil had seemed pleased with the information that both he and Emil were able to recover, and it looked like there were a few places where he’d be able to slip by without being detected merely by initiating a small temporary interruption to the network signal coverage. If they were careful, it wouldn’t even show as a disruption to the signal - it would just cause a temporary interference in a very small area.

 

They slept for most of the following day, getting rest while they could. The plan was to leave immediately after retrieving the painting and travel to Naples. It was about a seven hour drive, so it would be quite some time before they’d be able to settle somewhere for sleep.

 

Rousing themselves in the late afternoon, they went out to scrounge up some food and gather what supplies they’d need, though Emil had packed communication devices and some other handy tools before they’d left the Czech Republic. Victor was successful in convincing Emil to go back for more of the street food they’d enjoyed before. After all, Victor said, since they were there, they might as well enjoy it.

 

After returning to the hotel to get organized, they did one last sweep of the rooms before taking advantage of the hotel’s automated check out system. It was a distinct advantage, since they wouldn’t attract attention by checking out at such an odd hour. Not that Victor was too worried. After all, it was highly doubtful that the Favros would be competent enough to get close enough to track them down. Still, it never hurt to be cautious.

 

They pulled into the same driveway that Emil had used the day before, but turning the car around so they could make a quick exit. They had determined that this location provided the best cover and was the closest they could get without taking too much risk.

 

Leaving the keys in the ignition, they got out of the car and prepared to head in. After one last test of the comm lines, Seung-gil gave the go-ahead and they made their way to the castle. Emil would keep watch while Victor made his way in, since there weren’t any cameras outside that Seung-gil could hack into. He had managed to get into their security system, which was good news, but the plan was to leave it as intact as possible, with just minor isolated disruptions when necessary. Victor was to live up to his “Ghost” nickname, and flit in and out without detection. If they were successful, it could be days or more until someone noticed the painting was missing.

 

His entrance and exit had been inspired by his experience observing - they would both make use of a neighbouring tree, with Victor using it to swing himself over the hedge, and Emil using the height and location to keep watch. When it was time to leave, Victor would secure the painting (which would by then be in a tube) to his back with a harness he’d made from tie down strapsand climb a tree one the interior side of the hedge The only real risk was getting the painting out of the frame and safely into the tube without getting caught. It would take him some time to do it properly. As for the frame, that would go back onto the wall, empty. A fitting message from the Crispino family.

 

The first part of the plan went perfectly, Victor finding himself over the hedge and waiting for Emil to get into place before he darted to the house. Once he was was able, he sprinted to the set of basement windows he had spotted, making sure to stay low. He was dressed in black, but except for a hat, and he missed the extra anonymity the head cover of his cat suit would normally provide. He hoped that Seung-gil would be successful in avoiding any of the cameras capturing his face.

 

He signalled that he was in place and used the device Seung-gil had given him to create a disruption in the network coverage. Once Seung-gil confirmed it had worked, he slipped through the window, the old latches not really providing an effective locking mechanism. Once inside he quickly took stock of his location. He had found himself in an entertainment area that was obviously used quite frequently. He crept to the entrance of the room, and spotting stairs right outside,began exploring the house.

 

He found the painting in quick order - it was located in a small parlour off the front door. Don Favro must have conducted business here sometimes, Victor concluded, but not often since the room had the look of disuse. Well, hopefully, no one would think to see if he’d left anything here any time soon. There was no desk, so the likelihood of anyone coming for his paperwork was slim.

 

He eased the painting off the wall, glad that its location wasn’t visible to anyone passing by the room. The painting itself took up most of the wall, being almost nine feet tall and six and a half feet wide. Expertly, Victor turned the painting around to expose the back and leaned it up against the wall to begin his work. Seung-gil had confirmed that the camera in the room was inoperative, so Victor focused all of his attention on the painting.

 

It was evident that the painting had been carefully restored and reframed after the Favro’s had obtained it. The painting itself was in good condition and needed no extra care on Victor’s part, which was particularly fortunate. The stretcher was a modern design, and the staples holding everything in place were in mint condition. Good, Victor thought, the expert framing job would make his job of removing the painting without damage much easier. Using a pair of pliers, he carefully removed the staples holding the painting to the stretcher. After another detailed examination, he proceeded to the next stage, removing the spline from around the painting and gently pushing the frame away from the painting to avoid undue pressure on the canvas. He then laid a sheet of glassine on the floor, and gently placed the painting face down. Turning his attention to the stretcher, he cautiously plied the canvas from the wood, removing the occasional staple used to hold it in place. It was nice to see whoever had framed it had gone easy on the staples, obviously not wanting to put any more holes in the ancient canvas than was absolutely necessary. Victor appreciated the care that had been put into it - the framing had definitely been done by someone with expertise in dealing with very old oil paintings.

 

Having successfully removed the painting, he quickly set the stretcher aside and rolled the painting carefully in the glassine, paint on the inside. He secured it with zip ties and placed it in the cardboard cylinder on his back. It was an enormous thing, being close to seven feet in length, and Victor had had to construct it using a number of smaller tubes. The painting secure, he loved quickly to replace the frame to the wall, securing the stretcher to it with more zip ties and tucking the spline into his pocket for later disposal. The staples and other bits that had come off the frame he swept up with his gloved hands and left in the fireplace where they’d go unnoticed.

 

He checked in with Seung-gil - his work had taken all of fifteen minutes - and got the clear to exit. Tracing his steps back to the basement, he disrupted the network again then carefully lobbed the painting out the window in which he’d entered. He followed, pulling himself through the window with the ease and grace of a gymnast.

 

From there it was a short sprint to the designated tree. He strapped the painting to his back, then climbed and jumped over the hedge landing softly on the other side just like a cat on the prowl. Emil was already there, and the two wasted no time heading back to the car, and then onto Naples.

 

Both men were tense and silent until they were about 30 minutes away,Seung-gil finally came back on the comm to confirm that there was no visual evidence of Victor on the security system, and no sign anyone had been aware of their presence. At that news they both visibly relaxed.

 

Emil broke the silence first, looking over at Victor and exclaiming, “Holy shit, man! I’d heard you were the best of the best, and I know we did that one job before … but this…!!!! That painting is enormous!!! I don’t know how you managed to get in and out so quickly!”

 

Victor grinned back, “Well, that’s why they call me the Living Legend, of course.”

 

Emil just laughed in response, and obvious relief, his more cheerful personality shining through now that the job was done.

 

~~~~~~ 

 

They arrived in Naples shortly before noon, Emil expertly navigating his way through the city, clearly familiar with the area. He had informed Victor that they would be meeting Sara in her office in the city. It was located in an apartment building, much to Victor’s amazement. He was surprised that the Crispinos didn’t care about attracting the attention of the neighbours.

 

But then again, they were the Crispinos. It’s not like they operated in the shadows. Maybe the neighbours were even glad of their presence since the crime rate was no doubt non-existent.

 

They pulled up to an elegant, but typical looking three story apartment building that overlooked a park right on the shore of the Gulf of Naples. Surprisingly, Emil found a spot right out front, and pulled in. Observing Victor’s surprise, he responded to the unasked question. “It’s reserved. Everyone knows this, and those that don’t lose their cars.”

 

“Ah. I see.”

 

Emil laughed, his usual jovial self having returned somewhere on the journey from Milan. He looked relaxed, Victor thought. More comfortable and… happier… than Victor had seen him. He supposed that was a good sign.

 

“We’ll leave the painting here. Sara will send her men to get it. Don’t worry, no one will touch the car.” Victor grunted in acknowledgement, and they approached the front door, being buzzed in immediately. Emil led the way confidently, making his way to a rather grand staircase and practically running up all three flights. Victor kept pace with him, not winded, but still feeling the fatigue that never seemed to leave him since his flight from Frýdlant.

 

They walked down the hallway without pause until they reached the very end, Emil turning to the left and rapping a patterned knock on the wood door. It was opened almost immediately by a heavyset man dressed in black that screamed “mafioso”. Victor wasn’t sure whether to be wary or roll his eyes. It was just so cliche.

 

He held in the (frankly suicidal) urge to laugh and followed the man through a small foyer that led to asitting area, glancing at the hallways that branched off from either side as he passed by. He sat in the indicated chair rather stiffly, though Emil practically threw himself down with neither grace nor manners. They were told that Sara would be with them shortly, and the man left back through the foyer.

 

Almost immediately what could only be a butler appeared, asking them what they would like for refreshments. After noting their requests, he left as silently as he’d appeared, leaving Victor to wonder just how many people were around.

 

Emil noticed his wariness and smiled. “This is their office, as I mentioned. It’s where they meet people for business, and there’s a small apartment across the hall for guests that they can’t or won’t invite to their country villa for whatever reason. But they keep some full time staff here. The butler, as you saw, a cook, and a couple men for security. They stay in this apartment, but also attend to any guests of the Crispinos. My guess is that Sara wants you to stay here… probably to keep Mickey away from you. It’s just easier for everyone if Sara isn’t having to keep a tight leash on him.”

 

“But is it really that secure here? The building didn’t seem to have much in the way of security. No concierge or anything like that.”

 

Emil snorted. “Well, first of all, everyone knows that this is the Crispino’s. So it would be suicide to even try anything. Secondly, there’s a state police office right next door.” Emil smirked at Victor’s gobsmacked expression. “Oh, yes, don’t underestimate them. The Crispinos rule EVERYTHING around here. The police don’t just turn a blind eye, but might as well be a private security force as far as protection goes. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they don’t actively help with their more… illegal activities, but they will make sure that the Crispino’s safety and property aren’t threatened. After all, doing that much makes it safer for the population that an all out war between families. The streets would run red.”

 

Victor gulped. He hadn’t quite realized just how much power the Crispinos had in this part of the world. He couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He supposed it was good since he was in need of their protection. “I…see. I don’t think there’s quite an equivalent in Russia. The Bratva deal with the police in a very different way.”

 

“Yes… they certainly do,” Emil replied. “Better get used to the way things are done here, though. You may find that you’re stuck here for quite a while…”

 

Victor was about to ask Emil what the _hell_ that meant, but was interrupted by the return of the butler who had brought their requested drinks and a charcuterie, served on an olive wood board. Victor practically drooled at the sight, his hands itching to grab a piece of what looked like housemade salami and fig jam.

 

However, it was not to be, as the butler set the board aside, serving them their drinks then opening the sliding doors to their left, revealing a large dining room table… or a board room table, Victor surmised. The man gestured for them to enter the other room, so they did so, Victor taking Emil’s lead and seating himself along the side of the table, his back to the room they just left.

 

The butler then placed the charcuterie in the centre of the table and placed fine bone china plates in front of them. He finished his duties by providing them with linen napkins, coloured the Burgundy of the wine by the same name, then left as silently as he’d first arrived.

 

Victor was a bit baffled, to be quite honest. He’d had, and had come across, many servants, but none had managed to be as silent while managing at the same time to scream unspoken orders to those he was serving. It was really quite incredible how much he managed with just his body language and facial expressions. The man was actually quite officious.

 

“Vittorio is just showing off,” Emil stated, swirling his Chianti, which was his wine of choice. “I know I was put off the first time I met him, and I imagine you must feel the same. He manages to be completely intimidating while being completely silent and not breaking the rules of decorum in the slightest. It’s a unique talent, that’s for sure.”

 

“Hmmm,” Victor agreed, taking a sip of his Prosecco. “I have to admit, I was a little surprised by his… boldness I guess.”

 

“Ahhhh, Vittorio, he never fails to make an impression!” The bright, cheery voice came from their left as Sara passed through a door that Victor thought led to some sort of study or office space. “He’s perfectly respectful, yet he can bring some of the most important men to their knees with just a look. A rare man, that one.”

 

“And a valuable one, I imagine,” Victor replied with a smile.

 

“Without a doubt,” Sara smiled, closing the distance between them. She held out her hand, and Victor rose to take it, kissing the back of her hand, rather than the more typical European greeting he was used to. He didn’t want to risk Michele’s wrath, even though he didn’t appear to be nearby.

 

Sara laughed in response to his greeting. “A wise man you are, to be ever cautious should my Mickey be around. But don’t worry, he’s with my father right now. I’m happy to say he’ll be delivering our present shortly.” She sat down at the head of the table, pulling in her chair and placing her chin in her hand. She tilted her head as she observed them. “We’ve already verified that the painting is authentic and it’s on its way to the villa. I must thank both of you for retrieving it. It’s been my father’s dying wish to see it again. He treasured that painting more than anything except family. It is a great thing you did for our family, answering our father’s prayers. And we will repay it as a debt owed.”

 

“Does that mean that I get to choose how the debt is paid?” Victor asked curiously. Normally a job like this would be compensated in cash, the Crispinos dictating the terms, which were, obviously always in their favour. But something about Sara’s wording told him he might have more flexibility with them.

 

Sara leaned back in her chair, smiling slightly. “Yes… and no. You have given our family something that is irreplaceable. My father will be able to die in peace, and that, quite frankly is priceless. I understand your… situation with Yakov, and I think right now money is not what you need. So. I will give you a choice. You can choose money, and walk away right now, no strings attached. Or you can choose protection, but there are some conditions.”

 

Of course there was. He was expecting this, though he was a bit surprised by the offer of cash, no strings attached. On the other hand, she knew she had his balls in a vise.

 

“I’d like to hear the conditions first, before making a decision,” Victor responded, hoping that she’d at least have that before he had to choose.

 

“Hmmm… well, the first is I need to know _exactly_ what your current situation is. I need to know your situation with Yakov, more about Otabek, and what, exactly, has the great Victor Nikiforov so desperate that he’d willingly seek help from enemies of Yakov’s. Protecting you could come at a great cost to our family, so we need to know everything about the situation. Which leads to the second condition. We will determine how to deal with your situation and you will do what you’re told. You are known for your… shall we say ‘independent streak’, and there’s no room for that here. Are we clear?”

 

“Crystal. One question though - what would be expected with our relationship going forward? I didn’t work so hard to get away from Yakov just to bind myself to another group.”

 

“I don’t think you’re in the position to dictate terms,” Sara rebuked sharply, glaring at him. “However, that is not exactly what we had in mind. If you were bound to us, we’d feel compelled to extend our protection beyond just letting you get back on your feet. Given your reputation, we’re not interested in that sort of commitment. We will allow you to retain your independence, but the minute we pick up on any indication that you’re acting against our interests, or aiding one of our rivals, we will treat you as a traitor and deal with you accordingly. Is that understood?”

 

“Yes,” Victor said, his voice steady. “I understand.” It was more than he could hope for, really. He knew after this he’d have to completely disappear, and to the world Victor Nikiforov would be dead. It would be a completely new life, and to be honest, Victor was really looking forward to the chance to start over. He had more than enough money on which to live, so he’d be able to choose his new life - and make it an honest life.

 

With that last thought he knew exactly what his choice was. “I accept your conditions in return for protection.”

 

Whatever Sara’s reaction was to his decision, or the speed with which he made it, didn’t show on her face. She simply nodded and made some sort of signal to one of the bodyguards that had silently entered the room behind her when she’d first arrived. They both moved to the doors on each side of the room - one leaving through the sitting area and closing the doors behind him and one through to the room that looked to be the study.

 

“There, now we have our privacy. Time to start talking, Victor.”

 

Victor nodded and began outlining the situation to Sara, starting with the terms of his retirement and explaining the Just Judges… though he left outanything to do with Yuuri. Technically it was not included in the information she had asked for, and was irrelevant to his situation with Yakov.When he got to Otabek he paused for a moment, debating with himself before making a decision. If anyone would understand, it would be Sara. So he told her about Yurio. Not about their past, but his existence and his wish for him to be protected at all costs. Sara’s eyes lit up in understanding, and she also seemed to reach an internal decision.

 

“I understand your devotion to your brother. I believe we can work with your situation. You mentioned that you have a contact that you need to reach securely?”

 

“Yes. They are currently in Switzerland. But their situation is rather… delicate. I need to protect their anonymity. I assure you, it has nothing to do with Yakov or yourselves. If the situation demands, I will tell you, but otherwise, please trust me that their situation is irrelevant to your own concerns.”

 

Sara looked thoughtful for a moment before announcing, “Alright, I will talk things over with Mickey and we’ll decide what needs to be done. For now you’ll be staying here.” She stood up, gesturing for Emil to join her as she prepared to leave.

 

“There’s an apartment next door that we keep for guests of ours,” she continued. “Given the circumstances, it’s best that you don’t stay at the Villa. You’ll be safe enough here. Vittorio will see to what you need, and will contact me if necessary. You may take your meals with the staff or there’s a small kitchen in the apartment if you wish. I’ll arrange for some cash if you need. We’ll call it a loan until you have full access to your funds again.”

 

“Thank you, Sara. The Crispino’s reputation for their hospitality is certainly accurate,” Victor answered sincerely.

 

Sara tossed her hair and allowed herself a small smile at his compliment. “Oh, and if you get bored, there’s a roller skating rink in the park across the street,” Sara added as she walked away.

 

Victor raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m Russian, ice skating is more my style,” he answered smirking.

 

His cheekiness was answered only with a laugh that echoed through the room as Sara left, the musicality of her laugh a sharp contrast with the staccato clicking of her heels on the marble floor.

 

~~~~~~

 

Over three weeks had now passed (and more than a month since Frýdlant), and Victor was no closer to being able to contact Chris (or Yuuri). Yakov was apparently _furious_ and had eyes out everywhere for Victor, especially in Switzerland where Otabek had been spotted on multiple occasions. Victor wondered if Yuuri had contacted Chris yet, but had no way of finding out without revealing Chris’s identity to Sara. So for now, he was just laying low, spending most of his time at the apartment or outside in the near vicinity. And for the first he was thankful for a nearby police presence and the feeling of security it afforded. It was an odd feeling, since he’d been just a child the last time he’d felt any comfort from law enforcement.

 

He brought his attention back to Sara, who had just arrived and had settled down at the table she used for business meetings. She had mentioned having some news, and he was quite curious as to whether it would be good or bad.

 

Sara took a sip of the Pinot Grigio that Vittorio had brought before turning her attention to Victor and the business at hand.

 

“Victor, how many men did you say were part of Yakov’s team - including yourself?” Sara inquired, brow arched gracefully as always.

 

“Fifteen total, why?”

 

“I’ve just received a summary of the official report regarding Interpol’s activities in Frýdlant. The final report states that fourteen bodies were recovered, with the sole survivor remaining in hospital in a coma.”

 

Victor gaped at her, speechless.

 

“But…” he sputtered. “That can’t be right. I ran into an agent that night, only made it out because I’d disarmed him. He knew I escaped. How...?”

 

Sara just sat silently, watching him closely and most likely evaluating every twitch of every muscle he had, conscious or not. “Judging from your reaction, you already know the answer to that. And I suggest you share. One of our conditions is that you need to tell us _everything_. I need to know who else is a risk besides Yakov.”

 

Victor stared at her a moment before responding. “Yes.. yes, of course, you’re right. But, um, I don’t think there’s anything to worry about in this case.” Victor stopped as he felt his face flush involuntarily. “It’s.. uh, well, we sort of know each other. And, um, have exchanged correspondence.” Victor couldn’t meet Sara’s eyes, both embarrassed and startled at having been caught out this way.

 

The awkward silence was broken by a genuine _giggle_. Victor looked up, startled, to see Sara covering her mouth as she tried to stifle even more. It was inexplicable to say the least, Sara being known for her calm statuesque grace. If anything, she had a reputation for being unemotional, to the point where some called her the ‘Ice Princess of Italy’. So to see her giggling like a school girl was… disconcerting to say the least.

 

“What??!” Victor demanded.

 

“Oh, nothing,” Sara answered breezily. “I just never in this lifetime expected the elusive Victor Nikiforov to have a crush on an _Interpol operative_ of all people. I mean, the saying goes ‘opposites attract’, but _really_? You and an Interpol agent???”

 

Victor sputtered _again_ \- so much for his image of the cool, sophisticated playboy. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with it. He’s a fellow art lover, and an expert at that, so our paths have crossed more than a few times.”

 

“OH MY GOD!!!” Sara shouted, standing up and pointing at Victor incredulously. “YOU are the famous Don Juan!!!”

 

“What????!!!!???” Victor asked, horrified. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

 

Sara sat back down, this time not making any attempt to stifle her laughter. “Do you really think you could leave so many love notes at crime scenes to the point where it’s been classified by Interpol as a _modus operandi_ and no one in the underworld would notice? There had been one rumour that it was you, but no one actually thought that the ‘great Victor Nikiforov, Living Legend’ would stoop so low to chase a _boy_. Not with your reputation.”

 

Victor sighed, his shoulders folding down and in on himself in defence. “Yeah, well, you try being in my shoes. It’s not exactly a profession that lends itself to a steady relationship. And if we’re doing confessions, it’s not a profession I particularly want to continue in.”

 

“Explain,” Sara demanded, looking every bit of the Don’s daughter that she was.

 

“We met once. Years ago, now. But the way he looked at me… for the first time someone looked at me as a person and not as profit or less than human. It… well, it made me want out.”

 

“So… that’s why you tried to leave Yakov,” Sara surmised.

 

Victor looked away, biting his lip. “Yeah. I know it’s ridiculous, and it will never be possible, but I want… I want to be the person I could have been if I hadn’t been forced into this. I want to be worthy of him.”

 

“And why do you think you wouldn’t be worthy of him?” Sara questioned, ignoring the part of Victor’s past he’d accidentally revealed. Though it wouldn’t really matter, since most like him had ended up where they were through lack of choice.

 

“He’s… good. Like the kind of cliche superhero good in that he wants to do what’s right and always catch the bad guy. He has a very definite view of right and wrong. And, well, I am a ‘bad guy’ to him. Someone to stop, to catch, to imprison.”

 

“Are you so sure about that, Victor?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“The report accounted for _fifteen_ people, Victor - _fourteen_ of which are _dead_. He’s covered for you. He’s allowed you to escape. Can you really say he doesn’t care?”

 

Victor sat back, stunned. He’d never even allowed himself to think that might be the case, but when Sara presented it that way… well, it was hard to argue with her. “I, um, well. I don’t know.”

 

“You know how to contact him, yes?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

Sara stood up and walked to a nearby desk. Pulling open a drawer, she rummaged around a bit before producing a phone. “Here, call him. The number is from England. Untraceable.”

 

Victor took the phone and stared at it while Sara collected her things and left the room. She tossed her hair over her shoulder as she added one last comment. “Don’t deny yourself because you think you’re unworthy, Victor. We all ended up here for our own reasons, some good, some bad. But that doesn’t dictate what’s in your soul. I can see you love him. Show him that and you’ll be fine.”

 

Victor nodded at her dumbly while she swept out of the room without a backward glance.

 

Completely alone, he gripped the phone tightly and debated what to do. Finally deciding that after this whole adventure that maybe trusting in fate was enough, he dialled the number he knew to be Yuuri’s but had never used.

 

After three rings a familiar voice came out of the speaker, “Hello?” Yuuri asked cautiously.

 

“Yuuri… it’s me… Victor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time we’re back to Yuuri!
> 
> I had so much fun looking at real estate for inspiration. Here’s the inspiration for the castle where the painting is:
> 
> https://www.italy-sothebysrealty.com/en/for-sale/residential/gorle-castle-2717.aspx
> 
> If it’s sold, here is the description (Sotheby’s):
> 
> “Magnificent 13th-century castle, perfectly and beautifully restored and maintained, ideally liveable House of absolute quality and with luxury amenities. The Castle develops a primary home, on several levels and a lift, which includes the ground floor with a large living room with fireplace, vaulted ceilings and views of the garden; adjoining the studio with independent entrance from the reserved and livable internal courtyard; the dining room next to the large kitchen with fireplace and oven and dining room and a guest toilet; upstairs three bedrooms with three bathrooms, a local landmark living and balcony overlooking the Court; on the second floor, in the Tower, the master suite with dressing room and bathroom, direct access to the terrace; on the top floor the altana, accessible by Elevator, which offers a 360° view of the surrounding landscape. A large Tavern with a bar, the wine cellars with vaulted ceilings and a bathroom characterize the basement connected to the motor pool of about 90 square metres. In the side wing of the Castle a second apartment of approx 100 sqm. with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, kitchen, living room with mezzanine in addition to floors and basement. The discreet and comfortable garden offers the rare pleasure of enjoying the presence of rare species, including Ginkgo Biloba which is said to be the oldest in the region. The property, valuable and in a perfect state of maintenance and upkeep, enjoys artistic and historic protections. The exclusivity and the location, just 5 km from Milan-Orio and in the immediate vicinity to the city of Bergamo and the main motorway exits makes this property a rare opportunity.”
> 
> I actually managed to find the apartment I used for the Crispino’s office. Ironically it’s next door to a state police office and down the street from a bar called “The Ghetto Crime Bar”. And… there is actually a roller skating rink in the park across the street. Like, could it get any more perfect?
> 
> The listing:  
> https://www.italy-sothebysrealty.com/en/for-sale/residential/naples-apartment-1740.aspx
> 
> Description (Sotheby’s)
> 
> “This apartment, of over 450 square meters currently divided into two units, is located in a period building in the elegant Via del Rione Sirignano. The first unit, with two accesses one primary and secondary, overlooks the Riviera di Chiaia, the green of the Villa Comunale and the sea. A large entrance hall takes to the first hallway which leads to the living area. The large entertainment area, with four windows that overlook Capri and Castel dell'Ovo on one side and on the other, features a large living room and a dining room which are separated by a sliding door. A study with fireplace, adjacent to the dining room, overlooks the Rione Sirignano. Another hallway with custom cabinets leads to the sleeping area composed of a first bedroom with a bathroom and a large master bedroom with a walk-through closet and en-suite bathroom. A third hallway leads to a maid room, a bathroom and a large kitchen. The second unit, with interior views features a living room, a kitchen, two bedrooms and two bathrooms. The entire property is also suitable to be reunited in a single large residence.”
> 
> And what I am pretty sure is the location based on the description and the photos of the view:
> 
> https://www.google.ca/maps/place/Riviera+di+Chiaia,+203,+80121+Napoli+NA,+Italy/@40.83364,14.2322015,19z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m5!3m4!1s0x133b09023be9b765:0x4d9143b2300698b4!8m2!3d40.83364!4d14.23275?hl=en
> 
> Anyone interested in removing paintings from frames:  
> https://www.wikihow.com/Remove-a-Painting-from-a-Frame


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri contacts Chris and learns more about Victor. He confesses all to Minako and tries to secure her support.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we’re back to Yuuri’s POV! And a bit of a step back in time. Quick recap on Yuuri, we left off with Phichit saying he’d work out a plan with Mila to contact Chris.
> 
> This chapter got a little long, so my apologies, we don’t get to Victor and Yuuri’s conversation quite yet. But I’m sure by the end of this you’ll see how it will go :) Also, it really fits better with everything in Chapter 12.

After his talk with Phichit, Yuuri was able to concentrate to concentrate on his work and put the matter of Victor on the back burner… for the most part.

 

He knew he could leave everything to Phichit for the time being. He really hadn’t had any idea of how to contact Chris without causing some kind of a stir - one didn’t just contact a member of _that_ family. It was akin to knocking on the front door of Buckingham Palace.

 

Then there was the matter of Chris’s side job. There’s no way that contact from Interpol wouldn’t spook him, even if by some small chance Victor had mentioned Yuuri.He’d probably disappear entirely and Yuuri would never have the chance to pass on Victor’s message… or learn more about this mysterious Yurio person. Yuuri couldn’t imagine what Phichit was going to come up with, but he was content to wait and put his trust in him.

 

For the rest of the day he threw himself back into his work, completing the administrative tasks he’d been avoiding over the past weeks, both from plain old procrastination and his inability to focus on anything that didn’t involve Victor. He even took on some of the tasks Phichit normally took care of, since his friend was absorbed in his discussions with Mila. That was the nice thing about their friendship, he thought, it was never about who did what or who did more - it was about ‘what can I do to help out?’.

 

It was early evening when Phichit finally came to him, a shit eating grin plastered across his face.

 

“We have a plan,” he announced smugly. “Took a while to figure out the best approach, but we’re confident we’ve got it.”

 

Yuuri’s heart thudded in his chest, partly in excitement and strangely, partly in dread. As much as he was excited about the opportunity to find out more about Victor, he was also scared about what he’d find out. He admitted to himself that so far his feelings for Victor were safe - simply because they were a mere fantasy. He could make up any sort of story he wanted about Victor, about his personality, and his past. In his mind he’d built him up to be a sort of mysterious romantic figure, and placed him on a pedestal where he was to be admired, but not touched.

 

Contacting Chris meant finding out more about Victor, the man. About who he really was, whether his grand romantic gestures were some kind of joke … and whether he was just some hardened criminal with no moral compass who was just playing with Yuuri’s feelings like a cat plays with its prey.

 

He did his best to push those thoughts aside, knowing that it was most likely his anxiety speaking. After all, he’d looked Victor in the eye twice now, and had seen the vulnerability and sincerity within him. He had a number of letters, each becoming more and more personal as time went on and showing more of the man inside the infamous catsuit. It was going to take a leap of faith to contact Chris, as it meant trusting Victor, and trusting him with more than just coming through with information. He needed to flip his perspective, he thought, and stop thinking of himself as Victor’s prey. In this situation it was he who was the cat and Victor the mouse he’d been chasing for years. And Yuuri was done playing with his prey; it was time to take action.

 

Feeling a newfound determination sink into his bones, Yuuri looked up to Phichit, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. “So, what do I need to do?”

 

“Well,” Phichit answered, raising a brow at Yuuri’s expression, “it seems you’ve developed a sudden interest in changing your company’s web security.”

 

Yuuri just threw his head back and laughed. Of course. Of course, a hacker like Chris would have a legitimate job in internet security.

 

~~~~~~

 

They began implementing their plan immediately. They were going to use one of Interpol’s ghost companies to secure a meeting with Chris’s company. The ghost company they’d chosen was one that purported to supply certain departments of the US government with printers. It was a scenario that had come in handy in the past, and was no less useful now.

 

Although Chris was involved in marketing, Mila had confirmed that he took ownership over certain portfolios, especially if they involved anything to do with government.

 

<eyeroll - Yuuri couldn’t _possibly_ imagine that Chris might have ulterior motives when it came to the security of government suppliers.>

 

Phichit would start out as the point of contact, getting a hold of a sales person and expressing interest in their products. He would make a huge fuss, eventually escalating the matter through the company’s upper management. They figured that the scenario they’d created would be enticing enough to get Chris involved since printers these days had significant memory and scanning capabilities. The thought was that Chris might be tempted to see if he could use his company’s own security system to steal information from anything printed or scanned. 

 

So Phichit went through the process, putting on the air of a fussy client who expected personalized service. They had made sure the dollar amount of the contract would be worth the while for Chris’s company to keep pursuing the deal. Having elevated the matter sufficiently, Phichit brought Yuuri in as the Chief Information Officer of their ghost company to finalize the negotiations.

 

The final sticking point was an argument regarding the confidentiality clauses in the contract. All companies that provided the types of printer services that Yuuri’s company purported to provide had strict confidentiality provisions that provided the serviced customer (in this case the government) with protection and assurance that in the event Yuuri’s company collected confidential information while performing maintenance, the confidential information would be protected. So of course Yuuri’s company needed extra internet security, and they were making a fuss that the data protection provisions offered by Chris’s company weren’t strict enough in light of their own obligations to their end customers (the government).

 

It was a siren’s call to Chris - a company looking for additional security and objecting to Chris’s company’s confidentiality provisions - because said company supplied printers with scanner capability to the US government.

 

Yeah, they had Chris drooling. As predicted, he stepped in personally to smooth over the contract negotiations.

 

Though normally contract negotiations were slow as molasses, Phichit and Yuuri had sped things up, citing a new contract with the government that forced them to find new security pronto. So it was only eight days after the initial contact when Yuuri found himself on a flight to Geneva, drumming his fingers nervously on his knee in anticipation of what was to come.

 

~~~~~~

 

Early the next day he dressed himself in a sleek charcoal bespoke suit, a crisp white shirt underneath, and finished off with a deep carmine tie and handkerchief. He’d left his hair down, with a minimum of product to make himself look more ordinary, more unassuming. Foregoing his usual contacts, his glasses completed the look of harried but ordinary businessman. It was a transformation that always startled the people who knew him, though Yuuri didn’t really understand why - after all, he was completely ordinary no matter how he styled his hair or how he dressed. One thing he would agree with though, is that there was nothing about him as he looked now that would put Chris on guard.

 

He strode to the entrance of an aged low rise office building with the manner of an irritated business man that just wanted to get things done quickly and leave. The doors were a heavy wood, perfectly matched to the exterior of the building that was constructed with an artistry from days long gone. As he entered the building he was confronted by a sleek modern exterior that seemed to exist in different reality than the building itself.

 

He consulted the directory in the lobby and made his way up a set of stairs to the second floor, finding the office easily. When he entered, it was clear the receptionist had been briefed in preparation for his arrival, as she called him by name and adopted a soothing, friendly manner. She took his coat, asked for his beverage of choice, and led him into a nearby boardroom. Christophe (as he was known professionally) would be right with him, he was informed.

 

He settled back in the leather chair he’d chosen, and stared out the window facing him, trying to calm his heart rate. He had to be focused, as the next few minutes would be critical in gaining Chris’s cooperation.

 

Not quite five minutes later, Chris entered the room with two steaming mugs in his hand. He set one down in front of Yuuri, before setting his own down across the table. He walked around the table gain, and stuck out his hand in greeting.

 

“Good morning, thank you for joining me, Mr. Taka- …” Chris paused mid word as he got a good look at Yuuri for the first time.

 

Chris looked like the rug had pulled out from under him, his eyes wide and round, his eyebrows reaching his hairline and his entire posture stiff as a board. Apparently Yuuri’s ‘disguise’ wasn’t as good as he’d thought.

 

“Good morning, Chris. Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.” Yuuri smiled, giving up the game immediately and keeping his appearance nonthreatening and friendly. “And, please, call me Yuuri.”

 

“How… how did you find me?” Chris asked softly, clearly shocked.

 

“Victor asked me to contact you. Though, let me tell you, figuring out just how to do that was not an easy task. He had a message he asked me to pass on.”

 

Chris sat down on the chair beside Yuuri with a thump. “Oh,” Chris squinted at him, obviously on the defensive, “and what was that?”

 

Yuuri sighed. Now came the hard part. “That night in Frýdlant, we met briefly. Before he took off, he told me to contact you if I didn’t hear from him in three weeks. As you know, it’s now been just over a month… 33 days. So here I am. He wanted me to tell you to make sure Yurio was safe. And to tell you Otabek hadn’t told. Whatever that means.”

 

Chris sucked in a breath, both relieved but looking even more scared. Relieved that as far as Yuuri knew, Victor had apparently survived whatever had happened that night. And scared that despite the fact that he had made it through, he hadn’t been able to contact anyone by the time he thought he’d be in the clear. So…either things were more complicated or Victor was dead.

 

This was the first time things had gotten to this point. Victor was almost always successful enough that he didn’t have to rely on exit strategies, but when he did, they were sound. If he was honest with himself, even knowing that Victor had made it through the night, Chris didn’t hold out a lot of hope. Though, he supposed, perhaps Victor was playing dead this time to deal with Yakov.

 

Chris, of course, hadn’t been completely idle while Victor was gone. He’d been searching whatever intelligence networks he had access to. And nothing he had found had given him any sort of indication that Victor was alive. Or that Interpol knew his own identity. Yuuri’s appearance had caught him completely off-guard.

 

“And those were his exact words?” He asked, buying himself more time to decide how to react.

 

“More or less. He was… distraught. Things didn’t exactly go so well that night - neither for his group nor for ours.”

 

Chris nodded absently, having only heard about one survivor. But he had to concentrate on the way forward. Yurio. He had to make sure he was safe. “And what do you know about Yurio?”

 

“Nothing beyond Victor’s message,” Yuuri sighed out. “And that this Yurio person is someone that Victor would do almost anything to protect. He seemed… frantic, for lack of a better word.Yurio was definitely the most important thing to him that night. More important than his own life.”

 

Chris had been watching him carefully, but at the last words, he allowed his gaze to slide to the floor. He knew that Victor would never give his identity up willingly, and even more than that, he knew that Victor would never, ever, mention Yurio’s name even if subjected to torture. He must really trust Yuuri for some reason, a reason beyond his crazy infatuation that Chris had yet to understand, but would accept. He had no choice in any event since his identity was now known.

 

And if Victor had trusted him that far, that would mean he would trust Yuuri with the truth.

 

He sat back, blowing his breath out slowly and allowing some of the tension to leave his shoulders. “Well,” he said softly, “it seems our Vitya trusts you with his most precious secret. The question is, what are you going to do with that trust?”

 

For the first time, Yuuri looked unsteady, not having an immediate answer. “I don’t know anything about Victor, not really, but what I do know is that despite having a million reasons why he shouldn’t, he’s shown me his trust, now it’s time for me to show mine. I know it doesn’t make sense - I mean I’m an _Interpol_ agent - but there’s just something about him… I know despite everything he’s done, he is a good man at his core. I can _see_ it. And he’s been trying so hard lately…” Yuuri faded out, his eyes faraway as the memories of Victor took over.

 

He let himself fall into those memories - of every letter Victor had left him, every loving reference to his dog, his earnest interest in Yuuri’s well-being… and his apparent determination to do good. Even if it was still by using illegal means. His lip quirked up at the side a bit at that thought. The modern day Robin Hood, returning lost treasures to their owners. It was the sort of grand, romantic notion Victor loved, he was sure.

 

Looking up again at Chris he laid his heart bare. “I know it’s crazy, Chris, but I want to help him. He’s helped me more than he can ever imagine. I know he wasn’t there by choice, that he was forced. I don’t know what I can do, but I want to _try._ He deserves to have someone fight for him. I get the feeling he’s never had that before.”

 

Chris had been silent, letting Yuuri talk himself out to better observe the man and gauge how much he should reveal. As he listened, he understood what it was that Victor saw in him. Yuuri was one of the rare people that didn’t take things at face value, but instead looked through the paint and gloss to see the true value underneath. While he employed this skill in his job to identify art and artifacts, it was clear that Yuuri also saw through the veneer most people hid behind. Victor had once told him that in one look Yuuri had seen his soul, and now Chris realized that it wasn’t just another one of Victor’s dramatic stories. Yuuri really _had_ seen Victor, the Victor that Chris knew and cherished as a dear friend.

 

He drew in a deep breath, feeling every bit of his chest expand and the rush of the oxygen flooding his blood before he finally spoke. “Ok, Yuuri. Victor wouldn’t have told you as much as he did if he didn’t trust you with the whole truth. This, however, is not the place to discuss it. It’s safe here, don’t get me wrong, but I haven’t hidden myself so well by flaunting that part of my life. We should go back to my flat. You good with that?”

 

“Yeah… you should know I’m being tracked though.”

 

Chris laughed heartily. “Do you honestly think you would have made it through the doors to the building without me having assessed exactly what types of technology you’re equipped with? We are a _security_ firm after all. No one enters this building without a certain amount of scrutiny.”

 

“Oh, um… yeah. That’s a good point actually,” Yuuri admitted, blushing. “I’m not sure why my team didn’t account for that.”

 

“Phichit, right?”

 

“Uhhh… yeah… oh right, the sleeper line. I guess you know all about us then.”

 

“Not _everything_ , darling. Just as much as I needed to… and enough to get me interested. Your partner is quite skilled. I’m sure he didn’t tell you because he wanted to test just how much I’d figure out and be able to disable.”

 

Yuuri shook his head. “The two of you are peas in a pod, I swear. I’d be scared if you ever met - between the two of you, you’d probably come up with a plan for complete world domination. So, shall we go then?”

 

“Mmmm… just let me collect a few things and let the front desk know I’ll be out of the office the rest of the day.”

 

~~~~~~

 

Chris’s driver had delivered them to his flat in short order, and on their way through the lobby he’d given instructions with the concierge for lunch to be ordered from a nearby restaurant and sent up. Yuuri supposed he should have expected at least this much from a member of the Giacometti family, and he tamped down his surprise so he didn’t look like the classless Interpol agent that he was.

 

They entered Chris’s flat, and Chris led him through a rather small but open living area to a modest sized bedroom that was being used as an office. The flat had vaulted ceilings throughout, giving it a more spacious feel than the square footage would normally allow. Dark hardwood floors looked to have been a recent addition, and the modern decor was similar in style to that in the office building they had just left.

 

“I know it’s not much, but it’s somewhere to crash when I have to be at the office - which is as seldom as I can get away with.” Chris indicated a nearby armchair for Yuuri, and took a seat across from him on a crisp white leather loveseat. 

 

Sinking into the plush chair and admiring the polished wood armrests as he did so, his gaze turned to a wall that was completely covered in ornate wood paneling. It looked like a false wall somehow, as the room was narrower than it should have been based on what Yuuri had seen as they walked down the hall.

 

Chris cocked his head, “Ah, I can see your curiosity. This is where I sometimes do business for Victor, so it’s just me and my equipment here. Officially though it’s the flat I use when I have to go in the office, as I did today to meet you. No one questions it. I assure you that this apartment is completely secure. ”

 

Yuuri nodded, understanding that the equipment must be concealed behind the wall. Chris certainly had things running smoothly.

 

Chris sat forward slightly, taking a deep breath and seemingly bracing himself for the conversation.

 

“So, how much do you know about Victor, exactly?” he inquired of Yuuri.

 

“Not much. I’m sure you know what Interpol has. Other than that, just what he’s mentioned in his letters. Which is mostly about his dog and his food preferences. I have seen him, of course, twice now, and I know he has silver hair. He’s very… distinctive, once you’ve seen him in person.”

 

Chris laughed at the last. “Yes, he definitely is. And he’s one of the most _extra_ people I’ve ever met. So aside from what you told me earlier, is there anything else?”

 

Yuuri shook his head in the negative. Anything else was pure speculation on his part, and he didn’t want his preconceived notions affecting how Chris told the story or what information he would choose to reveal.

 

“Ok then,” Chris continued, “I guess it’s best to start from the beginning. Or… at least the beginning as I know it.”

 

“Victor is the son of Vladislav Nikiforov, who was a prominent citizen of Russia, and a business associate of my father’s. Victor’s father was actually quite famous, and as close to nobility or royalty that Russia has these days. Very wealthy as well. Oh, and I supposed you’d be interested - Victor’s father was quite the art collector, which is where Victor got his appreciation from. Though, really, it’s more of an obsession. Anyway, we knew each other as children, our fathers meeting for business often enough that we got to know each other. We both have… a mischievous streak, I guess you’d call it, and found ourselves drawn together in many of the sorts of adventures young boys tend to mire themselves in. Our friendship was strong enough it survived into our teens, but then Victor’s father died.

 

And here’s where the fairy tale becomes a tragedy. Victor should have inherited his father’s business. He’d been trained for it by his father. He was well educated, and his father fully expected he’d take over the business one day. But the thing was, Victor wasn’t legitimate. His father never married, and his father’s family never accepted Victor as part of the family.

 

So when Vladislav died, they refused to acknowledge him, and kicked him out of his home to make his own way. …And, ah, I can see your question, but no, his mother was not part of the picture. She died in childbirth, and her family was never contacted. So Victor’s only family was through his father.”

 

Chris paused, sighing. He really hated reliving what had happened to his best friend. The warm hearted, bubbly teenager he had been did not deserve what life had handed to him.

 

“Well, I should say there is one exception to my last statement. He has a brother. A half brother, to be sure, but Victor never made that distinction.”

 

“Yurio,” Yuuri breathed.

 

“Yes,” Chris confirmed. “Yurio. Yurio was three when their father died. Victor doesn’t know the identity of his mother. She had never been around their house, and of course it’s not like the rest of his ‘family’ would tell him. As I said, after his father’s death, the remaining family refused to acknowledge Victor and Yurio. It was partly about the inheritance, but also about status and some weird perception of shame since both children were illegitimate. As a result, Victor found himself homeless and on the street at the age of fifteen with a three year old boy to take care of. I didn’t learn of what happened until much later, unfortunately. My own father didn’t know the details, and Victor just dropped out of sight.

 

You can imagine what happened next. Victor did what he could to survive, and that meant stealing more often than not. He didn’t want to be separated from Yurio, so he had to avoid becoming a ward of the state at all costs. And… in Russia one _really_ doesn’t want to become a ward of the state. Fortunately, Victor’s always been brilliant. He has a quick mind and a talent for strategy. He put those skills to use and became quite the well known thief.

 

For the first year he stole whatever he could for food and clothes, and especially blankets. He was determined to care for Yurio at whatever cost to himself. They spent their time living on the streets, hiding in abandoned buildings when they could. When winter finally hit and the temperature dropped too much he sought refuge in a church, explaining to the nuns there that he didn’t want to go to an orphanage because he didn’t want to be separated from his brother. They took pity on him and let him spend the nights there, even providing a couple of extra blankets for them to wrap themselves up in. Victor’s… well, he’s always had the ability to charm people when he needed to.

 

They spent two winters like that and then… Victor wasn’t quite seventeen when Yakov got a hold of him. His reputation had attracted notice; he was just too good at what he did. He almost ran to Yakov, like a moth to the flame, since he thought he’d finally found a way to provide for Yurio. In a way, Yakov provided stability for Victor. He was a source of pretty steady income, as well as a father figure, and Victor finally didn’t have to worry about how he’d support Yurio.

 

Yakov, by the way, knows nothing about Yurio. Somehow Victor’s managed to conceal his existence from everyone that he’s met since his father’s death.”

 

Chris paused then, letting Yuuri take the time to absorb the information. And it was a lot to absorb. Yuuri had guessed his story might be something like that, but not the dramatic reversal of a rags to riches story that it was. He couldn’t imagine what the man had been through - between losing his father and his home and having to raise a toddler while living on the streets. His eyes burned with unshed tears for the unfairness of it, and the cruelty of his family. He couldn’t imagine the type of people that would kick a teenager out of his home with a three year old in tow and no resources. It was unimaginable.

 

But now Yuuri thought he understood him more. Understood that Victor was, in all likelihood, seeking some sort of redemption. He was right when he had guessed that Victor was trying to turn his life around.

 

And… that he was lonely. Oh how lonely he must be.

 

He cleared his throat hoarsely, trying to reign in his emotions as he thought of all the notes that Victor had left him over the years, and the ridiculous bouquet he’d sent not that long ago. He didn’t know where Victor was, or if he was even alive, but perhaps he could do something for him, something that would show him his life had value, no matter the path he had chosen.

 

“What about Yurio? Is he safe? What does he know about Victor? And what about Otabek? I’d - well, I’d like to help keep him safe if possible.”

 

Chris studied him for a few moments before speaking. “Yurio is safe for now. He’s at Victor’s country estate, which is unknown to Yakov or Otabek. It’s secure. He also goes by a different last name, so his existence and connection to Victor isn’t easily discovered. As for what he knows, he has a general sense, but Victor has been very careful to keep him out of that part of his life. He doesn’t know the specifics, just that Yakov was a former boss and to avoid him at all costs.”

 

“Is he ok though? He must be so worried… how old is he now?”

 

“He’s seventeen. And yes, he’s petrified. Victor’s all the family he’s ever known, and the two of them are inseparable. You don’t have to worry too much about him though. Victor and I had a contingency plan in place. If Victor doesn’t come back, I’ll quietly adopt him into my family. He will always be taken care of.”

 

“But what about Otabek?”

 

Chris let out a deep sigh, shaking his head slightly. “That’s a complication I’m not entirely sure what to do about, honestly. Apparently Otabek met Victor at his place in town and Yurio dropped by unexpectedly. The two spent some time together. I guess Victor’s message means that Otabek had been in contact with him again and agreed to keep Yurio’s existence a secret. Best case scenario, neither Otabek nor Yakov will care about his existence since if Victor is dead, he has no value. Worst case, Victor shows up somewhere alive and they kidnap Yurio for leverage or use him to punish Victor.”

 

Yuuri paled, suddenly having a better appreciation for Victor’s desperation. “So, the only way out of this is for everyone to believe Victor is dead. Otherwise Yakov will go after not just Victor, but Yurio too.”

 

Chris nodded solemnly. “That’s why if he’s still alive he’s dropped off the grid. He hasn’t accessed any of his accounts or left messages for me anywhere. It’s like he’s dead.”

 

“I think I might be able to make that happen,” Yuuri said slowly, deep in thought.

 

“What, kill him?” Chris scoffed. “I don’t think that’s the kind of help he was looking for.”

 

“No… I meant make everyone believe he’s dead. Maybe then he’ll feel it’s safe enough to contact you. I don’t know if I can do it, but I might be able to persuade Minako - she’s the leader of the Frýdlant operation - to report him as one of the dead.”

 

Chris stared at him in disbelief. “You… You can do that? You _would_ do that?”

 

Yuuri nodded, still hesitant. “Well, I can _try_. I can’t guarantee anything. But Victor has been giving me information along the way, and he did say he would give me some answers about the Amber Room. I might be able to persuade Minako to treat him as an informant.”

 

Chris was still staring at him. “I’m starting to think you and Victor really are meant for each other. You’re just as crazy when it comes to him as he is for you.”

 

Yuuri didn’t dignify Chris with a verbal response, though the deep red of his cheeks spoke volumes.

 

~~~~~~~

 

Yuuri didn’t go back to Detroit right away, but instead found himself headed to Liechtenstein the very next day. It was where Mila was stationed, and Phichit had asked Minako to meet him there. He had had a long discussion with Phichit after his conversation with Chris, the two of them discussing the best course of action considering the new information.

 

Phichit had been relieved after hearing Victor’s story, finally coming around fully to Yuuri’s point of view that Victor was more than just a hardened criminal. Although Phichit had already accepted that in some ways (I mean, what kind of hardened criminal sends love notes and over-the-top bouquets like Victor had), but he still found it reassuring that Victor was more than he appeared. He had spent years worried over his best friend’s heart, but now knowing how much Victor had suffered, he thought perhaps he didn’t have to worry quite so much.

 

He’d considered Yuuri’s plan to talk to Minako and had whole heartedly endorsed it. There were too many things they had kept to themselves, and this would give them a chance to come clean… as well as help Yuuri help Victor. After all, Phichit didn’t see the harm in Yuuri’s plan since the worst case scenario was that they’d be able to draw him out and arrest him if he didn’t turn out to be the person Yuuri thought. But Phichit thought that was unlikely. He had to grudgingly admit that Victor _had_ helped them, and had done so when he had nothing to gain. In fact, if one was to believe what Victor had implied about the Just Judges, he’d actually taken some personal risks to do the right thing and to pass on information.

 

Phichit had decided to keep Mila involved for _reasons_ which Mila might decide to reveal to Yuuri. Or not. But it wasn’t Phichit’s place to divulge anything, and really all he had were suspicions. Well founded suspicions to be sure, but it was mere conjecture all the same. Whatever the case, he had no doubt that Mila’s skills would come in handy if Minako agreed to help.

 

Yuuri, blissfully unaware of Phichit’s scheming, had driven himself the four hours to Liechtenstein,and checked himself into the hotel Phichit had booked. He found himself pacing in his room, nervous to finally talk to Minako about all of this, and afraid what she would say.

 

After all, Minako had been a mentor to him and he was petrified that he would disappoint her.

 

After he settled himself in his room and grabbed something to eat, he headed over to Mila’s in his rental car.

 

He pulled up in front ofher house, and observed it was a rather modern looking house with a fair bit of land surrounding it. The first thing he’d noticed as he approached were the beautiful views - it seemed like there wasn’t a single place in Liechtenstein that wasn’t blessed with a beautiful view, but he had to admit, with Mila’s place being up a little higher, the view of the valley with the mountains rising up behind the town was simply stunning. He could understand why she’d decided to settle in this almost unknown principality. It might seem rather like a backwater of Europe, but it was a centre of wealth, and its beauty could not be denied.

 

Parking in the driveway, he approached only for the door to be thrown open by an enthusiastic red head.

 

“YUURI!!!! Long time no see! As they say in America, yes?” Mila’s smile was blinding, and Yuuri felt at home immediately.

 

Feeling himself smiling in return, he responded, “Mila! It’s always great to see you.”

 

“Come in, come in! Minako’s waiting for you in the parlour.” Mila ushered him in, fussing over him like a mother hen. He was barely able to take anything in, her chatter constant and distracting. But from what he could tell, the home had modern, clean lines, and though it was decorated in neutrals, it somehow gave off a warm vibe. It was… oddly girly actually, considering he had never really thought of Mila that way. Sophisticated, for sure… but also very feminine with touches of florals, lots of mirrors and the glint of crystal here and there.

 

They reached the room where Minako was waiting and he was plopped down in an armchair across from where Minako was perched on a sumptuous winter white sofa. She was, unsurprisingly, holding a glass of wine which, at a glance, Yuuri was sure wasn’t her first. No sooner had he settled when she pointed an accusatory finger at him.

 

“Ok, Yuuri. SPILL. I want to hear EVERYTHING.”

 

Yuuri swallowed his greeting in an awkward gulp.

 

“Uh, yes, Minako-sensei.Of course.”

 

~~~~~~

 

After Yuuri had finally confessed to _everything_ , the three were quiet, each deep in their own thoughts. Although Yuuri knew telling Minako was the right thing, he couldn’t help but be nervous and second guess himself. After all, Victor had trusted _him_ and bringing in other people somehow seemed a betrayal of that trust. But at the same time, it wasn’t and he knew it wasn’t. Victor trusted him to make the best decisions he could with the information he had, and that was exactly what he was doing. He couldn’t help Victor on his own, so he’d brought in the best people he knew he could trust.

 

He looked up, waiting for Minako to finish processing everything only to find Mila eying him intently. Caught, she simply smiled and took a sip of her own wine.

 

“Want some?” She offered. “It’s a Pinot Grigio. One of my favourites.”

 

Yuuri shook his head, “No thanks.”He hesitated then, thinking about Minako. “Actually, never mind, I’d love a glass… or a half dozen might be better.”

 

Mila cackled at his response, true mirth colouring her laughter. “Don’t worry,” she soothed as she got up to pour him some wine, “I’ll make sure Minako doesn’t _actually_ kill you.” She handed him a glass, her demeanour turning more serious. “I know you’re worried, but Victor is probably alive. I think we would have heard something if Yakov had found him. You know I keep tabs on everything. News like that would have spread, and I know I would have heard it. From what I can tell, they’re still searching. Victor is _good_ at what he does, and he’s far from stupid. I’m sure he’ll be ok.” She gave him a small, sad smile in attempt at reassurance, and for some reason Yuuri thought at that moment she looked vulnerable; vulnerable enough that he wanted to protect her too.

 

“I’m sure you’re right, Mila. Thank you.” He took a sip (gulp) of his wine, and noted that it was indeed of a superior quality. “This is actually really good, Mila. I don’t usually go for the drier wines, but this one doesn’t smell like cat pee.”

 

“Mmmm…well I wouldn’t exactly call this dry. But, my dear, you’re thinking of a Sauvignon blanc. Different country.”

 

Yuuri shrugged in response, not particularly interested. It was alcohol, and inoffensive stuff at that, and that’s all he needed right now.

 

“Speaking of which…” Minako interrupted, “I could use another glass before we get back to business if you don’t mind.”

 

Ever the proper hostess, Mila popped up with a smile, the curled ends of her bob bouncing with the movement as she went to pour Minako another (unnecessary) drink.

 

“Ok, Yuuri, I think I have a handle on the situation.And I do agree, in the circumstances we need to consider Victor an informant, and treat him as such. Actually, we need to treat him more like how we handled Mila since I can see that there’s a chance he could come to our side.”

 

“No!” Mila interrupted, surprising them both. “If Victor is going to get through this, he’s going to need a clean break. He can always give you information, maybe consult, but he won’t be able to operate in the underworld again. He’s too well known.”

 

Minako looked to her, considering. “You’re probably right. So what should we do then?”

 

It was Yuuri’s turn to interrupt. “We can deal with the long term later, when we actually know he’s alive and secure. Right now we need to focus on making it safe enough that he feels he can reach out to Chris.”

 

“You’re right, of course, Yuuri. So I guess the first step is what you had suggested to Phichit - we make it look like he died in Frýdlant. That should be easy enough. I haven’t released any details except that the only survivor is in a coma. We can be more specific on numbers, release it to the media. We haven’t even seen to the death certificates yet, so there would be no way to verify the identities of the dead. Not at this point.”

 

“But won’t that cause you trouble for reporting false information?”

 

Minako shrugged. “Maybe, but it’s not anything I haven’t done before.”

 

“I can’t let you do that, Minako,” Yuuri protested. “Not officially, not on the record. If it doesn’t work, you’ll be blamed. I can’t agree to that!” No matter what his feelings for Victor, Yuuri couldn’t let Minako risk her career for this. If it went badly, or even if Victor was dead, it would come back on her. This was _his_ risk to take, not hers.

 

Before he could complete his spiral down into the depths of anxiety, Mila spoke up. “Actually, I think I know just what to do. I can arrange a leak of an ‘official report’ and ensure that it gets into the right hands. It will actually be more convincing if the ‘official report’ is not the same as what is reported in the media. Everyone in the underworld will accept it.”

 

“Are you sure, Mila?” Minako inquired. “Not that I object, but will that be effective enough?”

 

“I’m sure that it will,” Mila stated with certainty. “I have maintained certain contacts that I know can add some authenticity to the reports. Just hold off on those death certificates until we have a long term solution for Victor.”

 

Minako nodded thoughtfully. “Ok then, let’s start phase one of the plan. Leak the report and we’ll see if Victor pops up somewhere.”

 

“Not if,” Mila replied, “but _when_. I know this will flush him out. We’ll have to keep close tabs on Chris, just to ensure his safety, but I’m confident no one knows of that connection just quite yet.”

 

Yuuri tipped his glass back, finishing with an undignified gulp that didn’t do the wine justice.He handed the glass to Mila for a refill before speaking. “Let’s do it, and as soon as possible. There’s a teenager out there who is scared out of his mind, and all he wants is his big brother to come home. Let’s make that happen.”

 

With a bittersweet smile, Mila passed him a full glass. “I’ll toast to that. _To family reunions_!”

 

The sound of three glasses clinking filled the room, while in a different part of the world Victor paused in his stroll along the Lungomare Caracciolo, and gazed at the Castel dell'Ovo, idly thinking that perhaps just like the tragic Partenope, it would be for the best if he cast himself into the sea and left it to fate as to whether he drowned or washed up on some foreign shore to begin anew.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time - Yuuri’s POV again. Victor and Yuuri talk, Minako hatches a plan and more Mila!!!
> 
> In case you were ever curious about the colour red:
> 
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shades_of_red
> 
> Privacy (and security) provisions, data protection and storage etc are unbelievably complicated these days, especially with the remote collection of information for maintenance and performance purposes. Europe has the most strict laws, so it’s usually an easier negotiation than with North American companies. And it is true that governments have very strict requirements of their vendors - where I am governments have certain duties under privacy laws to protect information, and those duties go beyond most private companies.
> 
> I had never heard of Liechtenstein before. But then, I’m TERRIBLE when it comes to geography.
> 
> https://www.liechtenstein.li/en/
> 
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liechtenstein
> 
> Mila’s house:  
> https://www.engelvoelkers.com/en-li/property/verkauftexklusive-landhaus-villa-mit-pool-3938207.1259598_exp/
> 
> 4 bed 2 bath 3283 sq ft with a pool
> 
> The Lungomare Caracciolo is a promenade along the shore of the Gulf of Naples that runs in front of the apartment where Victor is staying and ends at the Castel dell’Ovo, or ‘Egg Castle’.
> 
> More info on the castle:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Castel_dell%27Ovo
> 
> The myth of Partenope and the establishment of Naples:  
> http://insolitaitalia.databenc.it/en/history/siren-parthenope-origins-naples/
> 
> So did anyone catch the bit of foreshadowing? Too obvious?


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Victor finally talk. Yuuri plans for Victor’s long term protection and learns more about Mila in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's POV again.
> 
> Wow… I’ve always had the chapter written at LEAST a week ahead of time. Life has been interfering with writing, so boy did I cut it close this week. On that note, obviously I haven’t started next week’s, so it might (likely) be two weeks. Chapter 13 is the last chapter with chapter 14 being the epilogue. I don’t want to get it wrong, so I may (probably will) take the extra time.
> 
> If I missed something, sorry - it’s just me, and I’m trying to finish this and work at the same time and I have no editor/beta/personwhoreadsbeforeIpost so pls be patient. Work is difficult and unbelievably complicated and I have yet to get 6 hours sleep in one night.
> 
> Anyway… FINALLY we get more Victuuri! I hope you enjoy…

The following day Mila leaked the false report as planned. When asked who or at least what group was on the receiving end, she’d just smiled and replied, “Now, now, Minako… you know part of the deal is that I get to keep certain of my secrets - secret.”

 

Chastised, Minako bit down her next question, and Yuuri wisely decided to keep his mouth shut.

 

Despite the anticipation running through his veins, Yuuri had prepared himself to wait quite some time before he heard any news - if he heard any at all. If he was lucky Chris would contact him using the sham contract they had set up with the ghost company. But Yuuri knew Chris was under no obligation. He might well hear from Victor, and Yuuri would never know.

 

So he was surprised when later that evening just before dinner his phone rang with a number boasting a UK country code… though he didn’t immediately recognize the city code. He stared at his phone, letting it ring a few times before his curiosity got the better of him and he answered just after the third ring.

 

“Hello?” he asked cautiously.

 

“Yuuri… it’s me… Victor.”

 

A beat passed while Yuuri processed the information. “Victor!!! You’re alive!! I’ve been so worried,” Yuuri practically shouted into the phone. He couldn’t believe that Victor had contacted him. While he wasn’t that surprised that Victor knew his number, he was surprised that Victor was taking the risk.

 

“Did you… did you contact Chris like I asked?” Victor questioned hesitantly.

 

“Yes, yes of course I did,” Yuuri responded, utterly shocked at the implication that he hadn’t yet contacted Chris. “And Chris assured me Yurio is fine. Chris is very worried about you.”

 

“When? When did you talk to him?”

 

“Two days ago,” Yuuri responded. “I managed to get a meeting with him through his company. He was, uh, rather surprised to see me,” Yuuri chuckled.

 

Victor huffed a little in response. “I can imagine. He didn’t flirt with you, did he - like grab your ass or anything?”

 

“No!” Yuuri protested, scandalized. “Why would you even ask _that_?”

 

“It’s Chris,” Victor answered, as if that statement was explanation alone. Yuuri decided to leave that for another time - his priority right now was Victor.

 

“Are you ok? I know this is a lot longer than you’d planned to be gone for. Are you secure? Is it even safe to be talking to me?”

 

“Yeah… I found a little unexpected help, with people that Yakov won’t get information from. He won’t look for me here, either.”

 

“That… doesn’t sound good. Please don’t tell me you jumped from one group right to another?” Yuuri was worried. That could make things really difficult if they wanted to treat Victor as an informant.

 

“Not exactly, no. I.. uh, did a favour for this group. A big favour. So in return they are keeping me safe until I can deal with the situation, no strings attached. But - don’t worry, Yuuri!!! The favour was nothing you’d disapprove of. Well… not really, I don’t think. It was harmless enough.”

 

Victor sounded so worried that Yuuri couldn’t help the smile he felt creep across his face. That Victor was worried about what Yuuri would think of him even now… it just showed exactly how much Victor was trying to turn himself around.

 

“I understand, Victor. You’re in a pretty bad position right now, after all. As long as you’re safe… speaking of which, can you tell me anything else?”

 

“I really shouldn’t. I don’t want to compromise the people that are helping me. And I don’t want you in any more danger if you start looking for me. But, um, I do have a question for you.”

 

“Oh, what’s that”

 

“Why?”

 

“Why what?” Yuuri asked, puzzled.

 

“Why report me as dead and leak the report? I don’t understand.”

 

Yuuri smiled to himself, glad that Victor couldn’t see him, since he knew his emotions would be too easily apparent. “Because Chris said that you were likely playing dead to protect yourself and Yurio. I thought that perhaps if Yakov thought you reallywere dead it would take some of the heat off you - at least in the short term.”

 

“Oh.” Victor paused, the sound of his breathing low and heavy across their connection. “Why?” he asked again.

 

Yuuri sighed. This wouldn’t do - Victor of all people should never sound so unsure. “Because even though I know it sounds crazy, I want to help you, Victor. I don’t know exactly what your situation is with Yakov, but I understand well enough that if you’ve mentioned Otabek, it’s not good. Chris didn’t think so either. Do you have a plan?”

 

“Uh, no, not really. For the short term, I’ve been trying to figure out how to prevent Yakov from finding out I’d survived Interpol’s raid. But without going back to the Czech Republic I hadn’t figured out a way to plant a false trail.”

 

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that now. The official internal report will be different of course, but we leaked that false report so I doubt anyone will look any further as long as you keep low. And I… well I think we can help you long term.”

 

“Long term? How?” Victor demanded. “Don’t you realize that I’ll have to stay ‘dead’? I’ll need a whole new identity.”

 

“I understand. You’ve helped me enough over the years that Minako, who heads the organized crime division agreed to approve treating you as an informant. We should be able to come up with a plan to keep you safe. Kind of like a witness protection program.”

 

“In return for information and working for Interpol?” Victor sounded sceptical, and Yuuri couldn’t blame him.

 

“Mmmm,” Yuuri hummed noncommittally. “Information, yes, work, probably not. As was pointed out by another one of my colleagues, with your situation with Yakov being what it is, you won’t be able to show yourself again. Oh - and don’t worry, I promise I’ve only told three people, and they’re completely trustworthy. They… well, they are on my side in this.”

 

“And what is your side, Yuuri?”

 

Yuuri braced for Victor’s reaction as he answered. He knew that Victor would react to his answer by either trusting him completely or disappearing entirely. He just hoped he wasn’t being too greedy, or coming across as to needy. “Yours, Victor. Always yours. I want you to be safe.”

 

“Why?” Victor asked yet again, so softly that Yuuri strained to hear it.

 

“Lots of reasons. And I promise when we see each other again, I’ll explain. In detail. But if I’m going to help you, I need to know more about your situation.”

 

“Ok, Yuuri. As long as it’s _you_ , then ok.”

 

Their conversation after that was fairly brief. Yuuri was amazed to hear that Victor had somehow ended up with the Crispinos, but pleased all things considered. Of all the mafia families, the Crispinos were one of the most ‘reputable’ if one could even use that in a positive sense when it came to the mafia. At the very least they weren’t known for being as blood thirsty as the others.

 

“Ok. I’m going to discuss this more with Minako and we’ll come up with a more solid plan. How will I be able to get a hold of you?”

 

“I’m not sure. Maybe it would be best if I call you. I don’t want to press my luck too much with the Crispino’s hospitality. I’ll ask Sara what she would prefer. But one way or another, I can call you back in two days, around the same time. Is that enough time?”

 

“Yeah, it should be. Um… Victor?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Are you going to be able to call Chris?”

 

Victor sighed, all the response Yuuri really needed. “It’s probably not a good idea. Not yet.”

 

“Ok, I understand. Do you want me to contact him and let him know you’re ok? I can maintain the cover we were using. It will be completely covert.”

 

Yuuri flinched as he heard what sounded like a sob before Victor quickly covered it up with a cough. “I’d appreciate that, actually. Thank you, Yuuri.”

 

“Of course, Victor,” Yuuri said, letting the warmth he felt colour his voice. “I’ll talk to you soon, ok.”

 

“Mmhmm. Bye, Yuuri.” And with that the line went dead before Yuuri had a chance to respond. He understood - after all, he couldn’t imagine how hard this must be on the man.

 

~~~~~~

 

Yuuri walked back into the parlour where he had left Mila and Minako and found himself facing very pointed looks - both demanding information immediately. He sighed deeply, trying to ready himself for the onslaught of questions he knew was coming.

 

He relayed his conversation with Victor to the two present in the room, as well as Phichit who was on the phone, making sure to leave out nothing, including what he could decipher of Victor’s emotions. After all, all of it was critical information that they needed to consider if they were going to be successful.

 

After a lengthy silence, Mila finally spoke up. “I leaked the report to the Crispinos. That must be why you heard from him so quickly.”

 

“WHAT???!!!” Yuuri and Minako shrieked in unison (and probably Phichit too, but as he was on the phone he was drowned out).

 

“Sara is one of my contacts. My… uncle used to do business with their family on occasion. Nothing illegal!” Mila protested, waving her hands in the air adamantly. “Just wine imports. The Crispinos dominate a lot of the export market despite being from the south. It’s … uh quite the coincidence that he happened to be there.”

 

“Mmmmm. It is, isn’t it?” Minako glared at Mila. “Aside from that, we need to come up with some sort of plan, and get it approved through headquarters. We were talking informant status, and Mila, you were pretty adamant that he would have to stay dead and take on a new identity. Which is unlike how we usually treat informants who just disappear. Could you explain your reasoning more carefully?”

 

“Don’t forget, Minako,” Yuuri interjected, “Victor thinks the same. As Chris said, in order to keep his brother safe, he has to make sure there’s no reason anyone would want to use his brother against him. And I agree - I really think it’s the only way. And we’d be protecting an innocent at the same time. Doing otherwise would put a minor in danger.”

 

“How old is this Yurio again?” Minako inquired.

 

“He’s seventeen,” Mila answered, much to the shock of everyone in the room, including herself.

 

They remained silent, even Phichit on the phone, while they digested the implications of her statement.

 

“Ok, Mila, I think you’d better tell us how you know all of this, and just why you seem so invested in the matter,” Minako demanded. “I know under the agreement you don’t have to divulge that information, but we’re at the point here where none of us can make good decisions unless you come clean.”

 

Mila refused to meet their eyes, her gaze focused on a white ottoman resting near the armchair Yuuri was seated in. “It’s… it’s a long story. Or, well, a complicated one.”

 

Minako sat back against the sofa, crossing her arms in front of her chest with an authority that couldn’t be denied. “Then I guess it’s best you get started.”

 

And Mila did, staring at the ottoman the entire time.

 

It started when she was twelve years old and had happened across a picture of a boy in his early teens with long silver hair and a heart shaped smile. She remembered he was her cousin, not one of the stuffy ones, but one that would colour with her and play games. None of her other relatives would ever deign to play with her, but the silver haired one always did… the one named Victor. When she asked about him, the photo was promptly taken away and thrown in the trash. Always a strong willed child, she snuck back to the room later and rescued the photo, keeping it secret and treasuring the memories.

 

As she got older she learned piece by piece what had happened to Victor… and Yurio. She was horrified by what her family had done, but as a child herself was powerless to do anything. And not that she could anyway since Victor had not been heard from since.

 

She had promised herself that she’d right the wrong that had been done to him somehow and never stopped searching for him. It wasn’t until she was in her late teens and had started hanging out with the less savoury of society that she began to hear rumours of someone who might be Victor. The “ghost” they called him, but the whisper of silver hair made it a rumour she couldn’t ignore.

 

After a while, she was certain it was him, and she infiltrated Yakov’s group as a mercenary to try and keep an eye on him. She became a broker of information, never getting her hands ‘dirty’ but leveraged that position to keep an eye on Victor and help him from a distance whenever she could.

 

One of her conditions of working with Yakov was that she would never go into the office and never be seen. She convinced him that it was safest since that way she was unimpeachable; no one could betray her or try to deceive her if they didn’t know who she was. Yakov bought the excuse and the legend of the ‘Red Eagle’ was born.

 

<“OMG _You’re_ the RED EAGLE????!!!!” Phichit interjected at this point in the narrative.>

 

Everything worked pretty well for a while until Victor decided to retire. Mila couldn’t keep an eye on him, and she really had a distaste for working with Yakov. Knowing the fate that most of his people met, she decided that the only way out was to fake her own death. So that’s what she did, and reached out to Interpol in exchange for certain information sources.

 

“So, that’s why I know the only way to truly escape Yakov is to die.”

 

“But… “ Minako started to ask, but seemed stymied by her own question.

 

“It’s true, at least the part about being Victor’s cousin,” Phichit asserted, his disembodied voice startling all of them, as they had completely forgotten he was on the phone. “We had a DNA analysis done on that hair, remember Yuuri? Well, when the results came back it was mentioned that the DNA was similar enough that Mila might be a relative. When she took a personal interest in this, I assumed that the analysis must be correct.”

 

“WHAT HAIR, YUURI????”

 

Yuuri looked over at Minako, completely cowed. He’d completely forgotten about that. “Uhhh, just a thing we found. Not really related to the scene. We were using it to…” Yuuri paused, noting his voice was getting rather squeaky. Clearing his throat he continued, “well, it was related to the Just Judges. And other unsolved investigations from our division. So it was part of that portfolio of evidence, and we were using it to build a profile. It just… well, we never had, uh time. You know? To take it further?”

 

Minako looked at him dubiously, seeming to accept the half truth for the moment.

 

“I need a break,” Yuuri announced suddenly, standing up. His anxiety had gotten the better of him, and he needed some time to absorb everything before he could contribute meaningfully to the conversation. “I suggest we all take a break for a couple hours and we can regroup and figure out what to do.”

 

Minako’s eyes flicked to him then, taking in his frazzled appearance and appreciating at last how much of a toll this was taking on him. “I think that’s a good idea. I think each of us needs to take some time to think about what we’ve learned and how we should proceed from here.”

 

Both Mila and Phichit agreed, and they decided to reconvene in a couple hours.

 

~~~~~~

 

Yuuri decided to grab dinner and then go for a short walk. The temperature was hovering around freezing, and a layer of snow covered everything, so he went back to the hotel first to change into something more appropriate for a walk.

 

He threw himself down not he bed as soon as he got to the room, and started to shake slightly now that the adrenalin from earlier had worn off and anxiety started to take over. He hadn’t realized just how worried - how scared - he’d been for Victor until he’d heard his voice. From the minute he took the call and through Mila’s rollercoaster story, he’d been fighting the urge to fly off that minute to find Victor and confirm with his own eyes that he was safe. There were still so many dangers, so many unknowns.

 

He was so relieved to have heard from Victor, to know that he was alive and safe, at least for the moment - but that was only the first step. They had to find a way to _keep_ him safe.

 

The problem was that although he had full confidence in Minako coming up with a plan, there was a good chance that Victor would never be able to see his brother again - especially since he was known to Otabek. And Yuuri wasn’t sure if Victor could live with that. He might turn down Interpol’s offer, and then where would he be? The answer left a bad taste in his mouth. Yuuri knew if he didn’t take their offer then he’d end up working permanently for the Crispinos. And once again, they’d find themselves on opposite sides of a crime scene.

 

If they were lucky. Working for the Crispinos would mean more ‘ordinary’ crimes, crimes that Yuuri would have no involvement with.

 

Although everything in his being cried ‘no’, he knew that he had to accept the fact that if Victor didn’t accept he might never see him again. He needed to come to terms that their strange relationship might come to an end.

 

But maybe that was for the best? Maybe it would be best if Victor was able to see his brother again. Maybe deep down he didn’t really want to escape the life he’d been living? After all, it had become clear to Yuuri that Victor enjoyed the thrill and the challenge of the work he did.

 

Maybe instead of offering Victor the restricted, narrow life becoming an informant would offer him, he should instead just say, ‘let’s end this’.

 

Maybe that would be best. After all, who was he to bring Victor down like that? To attach a ball and chain to a spirit so free? He was just Yuuri Katsuki, a simple and average Interpol agent who happened to have a good memory and love art.

 

His train of thought was abruptly interrupted by his phone, barking with Phichit’s distinctive ring tone. He sat up and clumsily retrieved his phone from his pocket.

 

“Hey Peach, what’s up?”

 

“Just calling to see how you were doing. And I had some thoughts to share,” his best friend replied.

 

“I’m just fine, Peach - why wouldn’t I be?”

 

“Oh, come on, Yuuri. That was a LOT. You talked to Victor, _finally_ , and heard from Mila. It’s been a few days of revelation for all of us. Even I’m feeling slightly overwhelmed and I’m not the one with a crush on the guy.”

 

Yuuri just sighed into the phone and stayed silent, not knowing quite how to respond.

 

“And I _know_ you, Yuuri. I’m sure right now you’re probably thinking to yourself that Victor won’t accept your help and that you should just leave him alone.”

 

“But PEACH!” Yuuri interrupted. “You know very well that there’s almost zero chance of Victor seeing his brother again if we help him, no matter what sort of plan Minako comes up with.”

 

“Yes, Yuuri, I realize that. And I’m sure Victor does too. But he trusts _you_. Think back to your conversation - what was the conversation before he agreed to let you help him?”

 

Yuuri forced his sluggish mind to dredge through the memory of the conversation. As he replayed it in his mind he thought he couldn’t think of what Phichit was trying to tell him. “Um, well, he was sceptical until I told him I was on his side. Then he asked why, and I told him that I would tell him why when I saw him again.”

 

“And remind me what you said he sounded like when he asked why.”

 

“Oh… uh well he sounded… vulnerable I guess? Unsure. I’m not sure why.”

 

“It’s really simple, Yuuri. You believe in him. And you inspire him to be a better person. He’s never had that in his life before. And _that_ is why he’s willing to put his trust in you. So don’t you dare go abusing that trust by not believing in yourself or how important you are to him! Do your job, Katsuki. You’re damn good at it, so use your skills to _help_ him. He’s relying on you - don’t disappoint him!”

 

Yuuri smiled into the phone, realizing that somehow Phichit had known that he would have spiralled into his anxiety and had done his best to shake him out of it. He wondered how he had gotten so lucky to have such a good friend and so much support behind him.

 

“Thanks Peach. You’re right. So on that note, I’m going to go for a walk, grab dinner, and head back to Mila’s. Talk to you later?”

 

“As the boss would say, ciao, ciao!!”

 

After he hung up with Phichit Yuuri continued to lay on the bed for a few minutes staring up at the ceiling. He was drained after the day; the emotional highs and lows had really taken their toll. He focused on his breathing and, using a meditation exercised, began the process of relaxing his muscles one by one, isolating each one and tensing then relaxing it. When he finished he didn’t feel entirely better,but at least his mind had cleared.

 

Abruptly he remembered he’d promised Victor that he’d call Chris, and grabbed his phone. Thinking quickly, he moved to his suitcase and dug out the portfolio he’d used when visiting Chris as part of the proper look of a ’businessman’. Sure enough, he’d snapped up Chris’s business card and it had his direct line on it.

 

He dialled the number, knowing that it was likely to go to voicemail at that time of day, but wanting to at least initiate contact. But, to his surprise, Chris answered.

 

“Bon soir, c’est Christophe.”

 

Yuuri gaped at the phone a second before answering.

 

“Chris!!! It’s Yuuri.”

 

“Ah, Yuuri… so what do I have to thank for the _pleasure_ of hearing your voice tonight?” Chris purred.

 

“I heard from Victor.”

 

“Oh my god. Is he ok???” Chris demanded all pretence of flirting gone in an instant. “What did he say?”

 

“I can’t say much,” Yuuri responded hesitantly. He knew how desperately Chris needed to know Victor was safe. “Both because of what we discussed earlier and because his own position can’t be compromised.”

 

Chris drew in a breath. “That… actually sounds positive.”

 

“It is,” Yuuri confirmed. “I mean, as much as it can be in the circumstances. But he’s ok, and as long as he’s careful, he should be for a while.”

 

“And were to able to make arrangements?”

 

“Not final, no. But the right people are onboard so I believe it’s just a matter of time and planning. A LOT of planning. But yeah, I’m pretty confident we can get there. Actually I need to go now so we can go sort things out.”

 

“Yuuri…”

 

“Yes?”

 

“ _Thank you_. I’ll take care of Yurio, so don’t worry about that. And please, _please_ , let Victor know he’s ok.”

 

“Of course, I will Chris. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of Victor. You just take care of Yurio.”

 

“Deal, Katsuki. Just don’t dare go back on your word.”

 

“No worries there, Chris. Victor is my priority.”

 

~~~~~~

 

He arrived at Mila’s feeling much better after his talk with Phichit (and Chris), dinner and a walk to settle himself. All in all, he felt cautiously optimistic.

 

Once he was settled in the same chair in the same parlour as before, and with a jasmine tea at his side, Mila called Phichit, putting him on speaker phone.

 

“Ok,” Mila opened the meeting, “Minako and I did some rush brainstorming, and we have the rough outline of a proposal that should address everyone’s concerns. BUT,” Mila emphasized, effectively preventing Yuuri from interrupting, “there is one question we have to settle first, and that’s the question of a handler.”

 

Yuuri frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but Mila raised a finger, signalling him to stay silent. “We already know what you’re going to say, Yuuri, and that’s that you’re the only one Victor can trust, right?”

 

Yuuri nodded, glad that she understood.

 

“Well… how do you feel about Japan?”

 

“Huh? Japan? What do you mean?”

 

“Would you be willing to relocate to Japan? To be Victor’s handler? We know your family is there, though you probably wouldn’t be able to settle too close to them.”

 

Yuuri’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?” He asked incredulously. He was anticipating having to fight about who the handler would be, and to insist that no matter what the plan he’d still have to be able to communicate with Victor. It seemed Mila and Minako had already anticipated him.

 

Minako smiled. “Yes, Yuuri, we’re serious. We know that you wouldn’t really trust anyone else with Victor, and we know he’s also not as likely to accept.”

 

“And, I want my cousin to be happy,” Mila added quietly. “He deserves that so, so much. I know he has feelings for you, and I know this would make him happy.”

 

Yuuri blinked rapidly to soothe his eyes that were burning from unshed tears that he would not admit to. “I… yes, ok, Japan. It would good to be back, honestly.” His heart sank as he realized the implication he had first missed. “But… Phichit? What about Phichit? How does he fit into all this?”

 

Over the phone Phichit spoke up. “You know it’s no problem for me to work remotely, Yuuri. I’ve already discussed it with Minako and Mila. I will keep our base in Detroit. I’ll just take over the master! No biggie!”

 

“But Phichit! What about our boards??? What about our brainstorming? What about…”

 

“Yuuri,” Phichit broke in, “Stop. Skype’s a thing, you know? Cameras and everything. Sure, it’s not exactly the same as being in the room, but it’s just fine for our purposes. I’ll keep up the boards, and you’ll just tell me where to put things. Not a problem. And sure, I’ll miss just hanging out, but nothing says you can’t visit, and we’ll be talking pretty much every day. We’ll make it work.”

 

Minako spoke up, “So, can we say we’re in agreement that in the proposal Yuuri will be Victor’s handler? And the final destination will be Japan?”

 

Yuuri nodded. “Yes, Minako.”

 

“Ok, good. Now that that’s settled, here’s what Mila and I came up with…”

 

~~~~~~

 

It was two days later, and Yuuri had been watching the clock anxiously all day, waiting for the approval from headquarters, and for Victor’s call. Luckily headquarters came through earlier than they had expected, and Minako and Celestino had somehow obtained approval to classify Victor as an informant, and proceed with the measures that would provide him with a new identity and ensure his safety. They had also approved the scenario that Minako had come up with for securing their final location, but they still had to figure out the details and logistics.

 

So now Yuuri waited anxiously to hear from Victor, chewing his lip and going over what he would say. It was a good plan, overall, and Yuuri thought that Victor would actually be pleased about it. However, there was one step that might prove to be a sticking point… in order to formally place Victor under their protection, they had to take him into custody. From that point on, he would be somewhat limited in his freedom, since ultimately Interpol would quite literally have custody over him. It was a bit of an odd situation, and it would play out sort of like Victor was serving a sentence. Yuuri knew that the reality would be that Victor would have freedom in his day to day life - he just wouldn’t be able to make any decisions or take any actions that would put his new identity or safety in jeopardy. But he could imagine for someone like Victor, that could be a deal breaker.

 

At six pm on the dot his phone rang, and this time he didn’t hesitate to answer it, barely glancing at the number before he accepted the call.

 

“Victor!” He said as he answered, sure of who was at the other end. It earned him a chuckle from the other man.

 

“Hello, Yuuri,” he teased, “so anxious to talk to me I see.”

 

“Well I wasn’t sure you would actually call,” Yuuri responded through his embarrassment.

 

“Ah, I see. I guess I’m not surprised, though you should know by now when it comes to you I _always_ keep my word.”

 

“I know… but I also know you’re in a tight spot. But anyway, I have some good news. First, I was able to contact Chris, so he knows you’re ok. And so does Yurio. He wanted me to tell you Yurio’s ok,” he paused, listening as Victor took in a deep breath.

 

“That’s good. Yes, uh, thank you Yuuri. That was really important to me.”

 

“Of course. And the other news I have for you is that we’ve received approval to proceed with the protocol to get you classified as an informant. As well, we’ve formed a preliminary plan as to how we’ll keep you safe with a new identity…”

 

“But? I can hear a ‘but’ in your voice, Yuuri. What’s the catch?”

 

“The thing is… in order to make this work, I’d have to take you into custody. That…that means you’ll have to trust me, Victor. I can understand if that’s too much. I mean, we barely know each other and coming into custody is such a risk for you. You’d be putting your entire future in my hands, your life really, and it’s just so much and it’s just me and I mean I don’t know that you —”

 

“ _Yuuri_. Calm down. It’s ok, I understand.”

 

“You - you do?”

 

“Yes, I do,” Victor sighed softly. “I get it. If we want to do this right, if we want it to be _legal_ and _permanent_ then we have to abide by protocol.”

 

“Oh. Um. Um, well then, ok. So, um… are you sure?” Yuuri mentally facepalmed for his sudden lack of ability to complete a simple sentence.

 

“ _Yes_ , Yuuri.I don’t want to live this life anymore. I never really did.”

 

“I know.” Yuuri slammed his palm across his mouth but it was too late. He cursed his brain’s lack of filter whenever he spoke to Victor.

 

“…what do you mean you know?” Victor asked uncertainly. An, _oh_ , Yuuri could hear the insecurity in his voice, he could practically hear Victor preparing himself for rejection. And he would _NOT_ let that happen. No, Victor would never have to fear rejection from Yuuri.

 

“Chris told me,” he whispered, not wanting to have this conversation when he was trying to convince Victor to surrender to Interpol.

 

“Oh. I see,” Victor returned, his voice flat. “I don’t need to be your pity case Yuuri, if this is what this is about. I’m fine on my own, and have been for the last fourteen years. You don’t need to take me on as a charity case.”

 

“NO!!! NO, Victor, this is NOT what this is about!!!”

 

“Sure seems that way from this end.”

 

“No!” Yuuri cried, desperate to make Victor understand. “Everything Chris told me only helped reinforce what I already knew about you - that you’re strong, kind, unfailingly loyal and you have the strength and will to do what needs to be done. No, Victor, I don’t pity you. Not at all. I respect you. I understand the choices you’ve made, and I _know_ you’ve been trying to turn your life around. Yes, I did mourn for the life you could have had, but that doesn’t change who you are _now_. The Victor I know is a romantic, a dedicated big brother, a dog lover and a massive foodie. The Victor I know loves art… and a good adrenalin rush. And also, the Victor I know _deserves_ to live a normal life. He’s earned it.”

 

Yuuri paused as he heard a muffled sob over the line. “…Victor… are you ok?”

 

Victor inhaled a shaky breath as he answered, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine Yuuri. It’s just a _lot_.”

 

“I know. But we’ll work through it. I won’t let you down. I _won’t_. We’ll get through this, together.”

 

“Together?” Victor asked hesitantly, the meaning behind the question clear.

 

“If you’ll have me, then yes, together.” Yuuri bit his lip anxiously, not sure how Victor would respond.

 

“Ok.” It was barely more than a squeak, barely audible, and that just wouldn’t do.

 

“Ok?” Yuuri confirmed. “Victor, I need you to have faith in me, and in us, if we’re going to do this. The plan is to settle in Japan. I’ll be your… handler, which is what we call them. But it isn’t what it sounds like!” Yuuri was quick to add. ”It just means that I’d be the link to Interpol. I mean, I can pass it off to someone else in time, but I… I want to be the one keeping you safe for now. If I’m honest, I’m being selfish. I don’t trust anyone else, and I don’t want you to depend on anyone but me.”

 

“Yuuri~~!” Victor’s voice hitched as he tried to speak. “I. I — ok, yes. I’d like that. A lot, actually.”

 

“Are you sure, Victor?” Yuuri questioned. “If you need to take some time to think about this, take the time. This is a huge decision and there’s no going back. I don’t want you to regret it.”

 

Victor let out a long breath that could be heard clearly over the phone. “No, I’m sure. This is the only way I can possibly keep Yurio safe. But, is there any way I can talk to him just once before everything?”

 

“Yes, Victor, I promise. It will have to be through me and after you’ve surrendered, but I promise. I’ll even see what I can do to make sure you can see him from time to time - no promises though,” Yuuri was quick to add. “Minako has a certain sway over some of our superiors, and it won’t be anytime soon, but we can try to get approval.”

 

“I understand,” Victor replied sadly. Though even the chance to speak to Yurio was more than he’d expected. “Thank you, Yuuri.”

 

“Mmmm,” Yuuri responded, not quite sure what to say. “Ok, for next steps, Minako and I need to set up the scenario we came up with. I’m pretty confident that it will be accepted.What we want to do is get you a full pardon and protection from the government of Japan. It will make things easier in the long run if the government of the country we settle in not only knows your real identity, but is actively willing to assist. Minako and I are both from Japan, so that automatically sprung to mind. Her idea was to have you personally return one of their lost national treasures to them. There are a few that we know the location of, but for various reasons haven’t been able to retrieve. But then… I guess you’re familiar with the existence of that list since you got a hold of the Just Judges…”

 

“Mhmm,” Victor agreed.

 

Yuuri sighed, wishing briefly that he hadn’t had that confirmation. He really didn’t want to think of the fact that Chris had that list. Getting back to business, he continued, “After some thought, I’ve picked one, a sword crafted by legendary swordsmith Masamune. It’s currently in Canada in the possession of the LeRoy family.”

 

“The LeRoys?” Victor snorted, interrupting. “ _Those_ idiots have one of Japan’s national treasures?”

 

“Yes,” Yuuri confirmed, rather amused at Victor’s reaction. “I’ll explain the context later, once this whole thing has been approved and we worked out the logistics. The return of the Honjō Masamune is going to be especially significant to the Japanese government,as I’m sure you can imagine. They will owe you a debt - and us, too. And it will be a very large debt. Um, I guess in western terms, you’d call it a debt of honour? Or maybe a debt of gratitude. Anyway, to the Japanese it is extremely important to honour that type of debt. It’s definitely the best option for securing your long term protection.”

 

“I see… so am I understanding this correctly? You want _me_ to _steal_ a priceless _national treasure_?”

 

“Um… yes…?”

 

Victor laughed deeply, the volume of it forcing Yuuri to pull the phone away from his ear for a moment. “Never, _never_ in my life did I ever expect to be committing a theft _on behalf of_ the authorities! And certainly not in exchange for clemency and protection!”

 

It was definitely ironic, Yuuri thought, smiling. He had thought Victor would like their plan. After Victor had become silent again, he continued. “Alright, so once we have everything, I’ll need to contact you again to let you know how we’re going to proceed. Is this a contact number I can use?”

 

“Oh, err… I don’t know actually. I’m not sure if Sara just gave me this phone for now or if I can keep using it.”

 

“Ok, how about this. You contact me again in one week, and see if you can get a reliable contact number before then. Does that work?”

 

“Yeah, I can always get a burner by then. You know my location, so I don’t have to worry about the number.”

 

“Ok, that sounds like a plan. And…you’re sure you’re secure until then?”

 

“Yes, I’m good. I don’t want to wear out my welcome, but I’ll be fine for the next little while.”

 

“Good. Ok. Well. I, uh, I guess that’s it for now. So I’ll, uh talk to you in a week.”

 

“Ummm, Yuuri?”

 

“Hmmm?”

 

“I just wanted to say thank you. And… I’m glad I trusted you. I didn’t expect you to come through for me like this. I mean, I hoped, but…”

 

“Always, Victor. _Always_.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much for notes this time… will link to the treasure in the next chapter.
> 
> Getting closer to that happy ending :) Which yeah, managing expectations, so more than likely 2 weeks.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor makes his attempt to secure the treasure for Japan and his clemency at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit late but it’s still technically Friday in my time zone :) Not going to lie, I ran out of time so pls be kind.
> 
> Back to Victor’s POV! And on that note, I’ve been rereading Rivals (very slowly as I have time) and one of the things I love about the series is seeing both character’s perspectives on the same events. I’ve done that a bit throughout this story, but as I started writing this chapter I decided to go back to their last conversation so we can see how Victor felt about it all.
> 
> A note on JJ - I’ve put him in Montreal because it worked better for the story even though in canon he’s a student at U of Toronto and it’s not likely he’s Quebecois despite his very French roots (all of his family’s first names and his last name). In Quebec the law prevents women from taking their husband’s surname when they get married, and JJ’s parents share a last name. (The same is true for women who get married elsewhere in Canada and move to Quebec). While women may use their husband’s last name professionally, it usually is not done - or that’s what my cousin tells me. Names can be changed but only in exceptional circumstances, which can require a letter from a psychologist. 
> 
> Here’s the info from the Quebec government:  
> http://www.etatcivil.gouv.qc.ca/en/change-name.html

Two days had passed both all at once and in an eternity. Victor had been so relieved after he had spoken to Yuuri, and for so many reasons. First and foremost he was relieved that he had managed to contact Chris and that Yurio was ok. He was also relieved that Yuuri had agreed to call Chris on his behalf. He could imagine how stressed Chris had been, and even though they had planned for the eventuality of Victor’s death, Chris had never truly believed that it was a possibility. Victor knew better, having witnessed Yakov’s brand of ‘loyalty’ or more occasions than he wanted to recall, but for all that Chris spoke of doom and gloom, for him it was more a notion, not a part of the world he lived in. Victor himself had never really expected to live as long as he had in his chosen ‘profession’. He wasn’t a pessimist however; no, he was a realist who knew the reality of his chances of survival in the world he found himself in, though he had taken as many steps as possible to keep himself alive.

 

He took a deep breath and stretched his back a bit, wanting to be comfortable for his upcoming conversation. Speaking of being a realist, he was trying not to get too excited about the possibility that Yuuri might be able to help him out long term. Even if Yuuri was on his side - which Victor was still very much trying to process - he had an international law enforcement agency to contend with. The amount of bureaucracy combined with Victor’s reputation didn’t bode well. Victor couldn’t imagine how Yuuri would possibly be able to convince them to treat him as an informant, particularly if he wasn’t able to operate in the field.

 

He shoved those thoughts to the side and dialled the number he had memorized long ago.

 

“Victor!” Yuuri’s voice exclaimed excitedly before Victor had even realized that the call had connected.

 

He chucked before answering with a tease, “Hello, Yuuri, so anxious to talk to me I see.”

 

“Well, I wasn’t sure you would actually call.”

 

“Ah, I see. I guess I’m not surprised, though you should know by now when it comes to you I _always_ keep my word.” _Oh Yuuri_ , he thought, _always so self deprecating. Do you really not realize your value?_

 

“I know… but I also know you’re in a tight spot. But anyway, I have some good news. First, I was able to contact Chris, so he knows you’re ok. And so does Yurio. He wanted me to tell you Yurio’s ok.”

 

Victor took in a deep breath, relieved and so, so grateful that Yuuri had been able to contact him. “That’s good. Yes, uh, thank you Yuuri. That was really important to me.”

 

“Of course. And the other news I have for you is that we’ve received approval to proceed with the protocol to get you classified as an informant. As well, we’ve formed a preliminary plan as to how we’ll keep you safe with a new identity…”

 

Victor held his breath at that, since he hadn’t expected Yuuri to be able to arrange things, and certainly not get approval so quickly. His heart raced and tears sprung to his eyes as he thought about the possibility, about being free - truly free - for the first time in his life. It was almost too much for him to comprehend. It was certainly not a future he had ever dare hoped for, not after being sent packing by his so-called family.

 

His ever-present, ever-analytical brain, however, noticed the barely-there hesitation in Yuuri’s voice, and his pause. There was a catch. Of course. There was always a catch.

 

“But?” He asked, wanting to know up front what the condition or stipulation would be. “I can hear a ‘but’ in your voice, Yuuri. What’s the catch?”

 

“The thing is… in order to make this work, I’d have to take you into custody. That…that means you’ll have to trust me, Victor. I can understand if that’s too much. I mean, we barely know each other and coming into custody is such a risk for you. You’d be putting your entire future in my hands, your life really, and it’s just so much and it’s just me and I mean I don’t know that you —”

 

Victor felt the tension unwind in his shoulders as he processed Yuuri’s rambling. Yuuri was obviously convinced that this would be a deal breaker for Victor. He almost laughed at the thought - he wasn’t naive. _Of course_ he’d have to be taken into custody. That really would be the only legal way to do it, or else they’d be aiding and abetting a criminal. He felt himself relax further. If this was the thing Yuuri was most worried about, then it was probably going to work out just fine.

 

“ _Yuuri_. Calm down. It’s ok, I understand.”

 

“You - you do?”

 

“Yes, I do,” Victor sighed softly. “I get it. If we want to do this right, if we want it to be _legal_ and _permanent_ then we have to abide by protocol.”

 

“Oh. Um. Um, well then, ok. So, um… are you sure?”

 

Victor bit his lip to stifle the laugh that was bubbling up. Yuuri, despite his profession, despite his undeniable skills and brilliance was just _so_ cute sometimes. “ _Yes_ , Yuuri.I don’t want to live this life anymore. I never really did.”

 

“I know.”

 

_What???_ Victor thought. He’d alluded to changing his ways previously, but the confidence and speed with which Yuuri spoke indicated the other man knew more than he was letting on. And that could not be good. Above all else, he didn’t want Yuuri knowing about his childhood and his fall from society. He didn’t want to be pitied, after all he’d been through, he couldn’t accept _pity_.

 

“…what do you mean you know?” Victor asked uncertainly.

 

“Chris told me,” he whispered.

 

And there it was. There was the real motivation behind this. Yuuri didn’t care about _Victor_. Not the _real_ Victor. No, all saw was a victim. Someone who needed his help and couldn’t fend for himself.

 

As much as he loved Yuuri, and craved his approval, his _pity_ was not something he could accept. Not even if it meant a ‘get out of jail free’ card.

 

“Oh. I see,” Victor returned, his voice flat. “I don’t need to be your pity case Yuuri, if this is what this is about. I’m fine on my own, and have been for the last fourteen years. You don’t need to take me on as a charity case.”

 

“NO!!! NO, Victor, this is NOT what this is about!!!”

 

“Sure seems that way from this end.” Victor scoffed, hardening his heart.

 

He was just about to end the conversation when Yuuri cried out. “No! Everything Chris told me only helped reinforce what I already knew about you - that you’re strong, kind, unfailingly loyal and you have the strength and will to do what needs to be done. No, Victor, I don’t pity you. Not at all. I respect you. I understand the choices you’ve made, and I _know_ you’ve been trying to turn your life around. Yes, I did mourn for the life you could have had, but that doesn’t change who you are _now_. The Victor I know is a romantic, a dedicated big brother, a dog lover and a massive foodie. The Victor I know loves art… and a good adrenalin rush. And also, the Victor I know _deserves_ to live a normal life. He’s earned it.”

 

With every word that Yuuri spoke, Victor could feel the walls he’d just erected (again) around his heart come crumbling down. No one had ever spoken to him like that before. Not so honestly, and not with so much passion.

 

… and certainly not with so much knowledge of who Victor was as a person. Even with Chris he never truly let down his guard. But it seemed Yuuri had somehow wheedled his way through Victor’s defences, and had paid the kind of attention to him that could only come from someone who truly _cared_.

 

His breath hitched in a sob as he struggled to find something to say.

 

“…Victor… are you ok?” Yuuri asked, sounding worried.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine Yuuri. It’s just a _lot_.”

 

“I know. But we’ll work through it. I won’t let you down. I _won’t_. We’ll get through this, together.”

 

“Together?” Victor asked hesitantly, not daring to hope for what Yuuri seemed to be suggesting. He knew that Interpol (and most other law enforcement agencies) would have one of their own guarding him, or living with him, and making sure he stayed in line. Was Yuuri suggesting he would be the one for Victor?

 

“If you’ll have me, then yes, together.” Yuuri replied, sounding a bit anxious.

 

“Ok,” he squeaked out, hoping he wasn’t misunderstanding. But it didn’t matter, really, with Yuuri the answer to the question of ‘together’ would always be _yes_.

 

“Ok,” Yuuri responded.

 

Yuuri went on to confirm Victor’s suspicions that he would be Victor’s ‘handler’ which was more than ok with him. He was quite excited by the idea, though he tried to keep his reaction somewhat in check in consideration for the embarrassment it seemed to be causing Yuuri.

 

There was just one thing… it wouldn’t hold him back, because he knew this was really his only chance. But… he was hoping beyond belief that he wouldn’t have to give up Yurio entirely or that his brother would have to believe he was dead.

 

So he asked. He asked if he could at least talk to Yurio again, just once. He knew the answer would most probably be ‘no’, but he asked anyway, on the slim hope that maybe Yuuri’s kind heart would find a way.

 

And… he _promised._ To talk at least, maybe even eventually see him, though Victor wouldn’t get his hopes up for the latter.

 

But Yuuri had _promised_.

 

Despite everything. Despite that Victor was a scumbag of a thief. Despite that Interpol wasn’t really gaining anything for agreeing to his protection. Despite the huge risk it could entail. And… despite the fact that Yuuri didn’t have to, but did anyway.

 

He let out a long breath, unbelieving that fate had given him this opportunity. He once again found himself on the verge of tears and barely able to hold back.

 

Yuuri then went on to explain what would happen next. It was much like Victor expected except for one little catch.

 

That little catch was one last job.

 

And Victor couldn’t help himself from practically _salivating_ at the opportunity. Interpol wanted him to steal the Honjō Masamune of all things. The sword had been crafted somewhere in the early fourteenth century by Masamune himself, a Japanese master swordsmith considered to this day to be the greatest swordsmith in Japanese history. The sword itself played its own role through Japanese history, and had been named a national treasure in 1939.

 

However, it had been lost at the end of WWII when, due to a ban on edged swords during the American occupation, an honourable politician turned it, and thirteen other edged blades, in to police at a local police station. From there, the records show that the police gave those fourteen swords to a sergeant in the Foreign Liquidations Commission of AFWESPAC. The sergeant was identified as Coldy Bilmore, and that is where the trail ends. As far as the records show, there was no sergeant of that name in the AFWESPAC, and the sword had not been seen since. While many thought the sword had been lost as one of the many that was melted down, other scholars and treasure hunters believed that it had been stolen by whoever had assumed the identity of ‘Coldy Bilmore’.

 

Well, now it appeared thatInterpol knew who had had it all along - it had been stolen by Cody Biltmore of _that_ Biltmore family. A family that was extremely wealthy and influential in both business and political matters. The thing was, the existence of Cody Biltmore had been all but erased from history. He was the black sheep of the family, and had constantly been in trouble with the authorities. He was a black eye to the family name, and when he had disappeared after WWII, the family had happily pretended that he had never existed, and through their influence had all records of him that linked him to the Biltmores expunged from official registries. When it had come to light shortly after the war that Cody had most likely absconded with the sword, the family had come forward to Interpol and had begged them to take no action to retrieve it.

 

Political stability was a priority after the war, and given the importance of the family in American politics, and the optics of the theft, Interpol agreed to hold off taking action. Instead, they put it on their list of known treasures and kept an eye on Cody and his descendants to make sure the sword stayed put.

 

Victor had put all of this together immediately as soon as Yuuri had mentioned the LeRoys. Victor had known of Cody Biltmore, and had at times wondered if he was the one that had the sword as the names were so similar, but had not known what had happened to him after the war - whether he was killed or had run off somewhere. But now he knew, without Yuuri having to tell him the details. It made so much sense. The LeRoy family had seemingly come out of nowhere - a rich family with no apparent history. They were a big part of the underworld, though they limited themselves to drug smuggling for the most part.

 

But it all made sense now. The LeRoys were based in Montreal, a hub off of several transportation routes, and a location for smuggling that didn’t immediately spring to mind since it wasn’t on the coast, though it had an established shipping route directly through to the Atlantic Ocean. It made a lot of sense that Cody had made his way to Canada after the war and changed his name. At the time, Canada had a great need for skilled workers, and British and Americans were the preferred immigrants. It would have been easy for Cody to change his name and gain citizenship.

 

Victor grinned to himself. He despised the drug trade, and despised the LeRoys even more. The act of stealing the sword out from under Alain would be an appropriate swan song to end his career. And getting to be with Yuuri at the end was the true reward.

 

His smile became softer as he thought of everything Yuuri had done for him. He had a desperate need to thank Yuuri - for everything he had done and for coming through for him. He hadn’t really expected him to do so… he had hoped, but he had known it was too much to ask. And he really, really needed Yuuri to know just how much it had meant to him.

 

“I just wanted to say thank you,” he finally managed, choking back his emotions as well as he could.“And… I’m glad I trusted you. I didn’t expect you to come through for me like this. I mean, I hoped, but…”

 

“Always, Victor. _Always_.”

 

Victor’s breath caught in his chest and his heart hurt… both from the longing he had long harboured to be accepted by someone, to be _valued_ , and for the hope that maybe, just _maybe_ , he wouldn’t have to be alone forever. No matter what the future held he would hold those words close to his heart, treasuring them always.

 

~~~~~~

 

A week later Victor had gotten in touch with Yuuri again using the loaner phone that Sara had given him. He was grateful that she didn’t mind, since he didn’t see the point in getting his own with his circumstances about to change.

 

After their conversation he’d been both surprised and not. Yuuri’s charm, it seemed, knew no bounds. Although… now that he thought about it, Phichit might have played a role in things as well since Chris had always seemed fascinated with him. But no matter the case, Yuuri had apparently worked some magic and convinced Chris to help him plan out most of the logistics for retrieving the Honjō Masamune. And not only that, but Yuuri had hinted that he’d secured Chris’s agreement to do some future contract work for Interpol in exchange for immunity.

 

All in all, Victor was pleased. After all, it’s not like Yuuri (or Interpol) could ignore Chris’s role in Victor’s crimes now that they were aware of it. The deal Yuuri had hinted at would afford Chris protection while still letting him indulge his adventurous streak by doing the occasional job for Interpol.

 

And as an added benefit, with Chris’s input into his last job, Victor felt a lot more confident. Not that he didn’t believe in Yuuri, but there was a lot more to planning a heist than investigating after the fact. It was a completely different approach, and one that Yuuri very obviously would not have had experience in. He may have known Victor’s methods, but he didn’t know why Victor made certain choices, or understand the different levels of risk behind different ways of approaching things. Chris, on the other hand, had the kind of strategic vision necessary to understand both the detail and the bigger picture. He knew with Chris involved that the chances of success were much higher.

 

He thought over the new information that Yuuri had given him.Colby’s family history in itself was interesting. Victor had been only partially correct - Colby had moved to Canada (Ontario, specifically) but he didn’t change his name, or at least not right away. He used the prestige that came with his name to attract investors for some sort of project; then, like the scallywag he was, he made off with the money leaving them high and dry. He ended up in Quebec, and had quickly married a Metis woman by the name of Marie LeRoy, and though illegal, he took her name, thereby securing a new identity.

 

Colby had used the money he’d absconded and used it to start a smuggling business based out of Montreal. With the boom in manufacturing and associated shipping, it was easy for him to establish himself and dominate the North American market. While not all of his descendants had become involved in the family ‘business’ his eldest son Alain had become his right hand, and eventually his heir. Currently Alain ran the business, with his son Jean-Jacques, or as he like to be called, JJ, as his heir.Along with the family business, the sword too had been passed down, and now resided with JJ.

 

JJ… Victor’s lips twisted in distaste. The man was obnoxious, arrogant to the point of stupidity, and had delusions of grandeur, constantly referring to himself as “the King”. This job would be so, so satisfying.

 

Yuuri had told him that in preparation for his upcoming wedding, JJ had just purchased a house in Laval, a city just north of Montreal proper - really a suburb of the city. Ironically, Victor noted that it was a mere half hour from the training facility that his brother had dreamed of training at one day - the one that those Olympic ice dancers had trained at. It was too bad, he thought, that he couldn’t play tourist and take some pictures or even get an autograph for Yurio.

 

The timing would be good though, as JJ was not only distracted by his upcoming wedding, but it meant that he would be the only one residing there. The LeRoy family, despite their business, were staunch Catholics, and very traditional in their beliefs.

 

A knock at the door interrupted his rumination, and the now familiar presence of Vittorio entered. “Ms. Crispino to see you,” he announced in his typical uppity manner. Victor had gotten used to it, seeing it now more as a quirk in the fellow’s personality, rather than the same sort of arrogance JJ sported.

 

Sara swept into the room, elegant as always, wearing a crisp white pantsuit paired with scrappy gold heels. She had matching large gold hoops in her ears that swayed with the cadence of her walk. Her hair, though usually down, was styled in a topknot, giving her the appearance of an Italian Audrey Hepburn. All she was missing was a long cigarette holder.

 

“Victor,” she smiled in greeting, “I assume you’ve spoken to your Yuuri by now. Fill me in… what you can at least.”

 

Victor smiled back at her. The Crispinos had truly been fantastic hosts, and Victor had found himself looking forward to Sara’s visits. Sara was engaging; she always took a sincere interest in whatever Victor had to say, and despite her affiliations, she appeared to be kind at heart. That wasn’t to say she couldn’t be ruthless; she was obviously made of steel, and had the charm and intelligence to manage her family’s affairs with ease. But there was also a softer side to her - one that was filled with warmth and love for those that she deemed worthy. He could see why her brother was so paranoid about her - Sara was a true jewel, and he was sure many men were drawn to her for a whole host of reasons. He may have been one of them as well if it wasn’t for Yuuri… but he’d locked his heart up long ago, and Yuuri was the only person that he’d ever be able to open himself up to that way. It was doubly fortunate for him that it was obvious his interest in Sara was purely platonic.

 

Even Victor had to admit he was ridiculously transparent with his feelings for Yuuri. It was downright embarrassing for someone known for his ‘iron control’ and as the ‘ice prince’.

 

Victor answered Sara’s warm smile with one of his own. “Yes, and thank you again for the use of the phone. We spoke earlier.”

 

“And…” Sara prompted, looking for all the world like a high school girl digging for the juiciest gossip. “What did he say? Do you have a plan?”

 

“Yes… and I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that I’ll be out of your hair right away. I have a flight out tomorrow. I’ll need to do some shopping first though. Where I’m headed it’s truly winter.”

 

Sara smiled at him again, though she looked a little disappointed. “I’m glad he was able to work things out for you. I have to admit though, I’m going to miss having you around. Your presence riles up Mickey just enough that he’s spending more time with Emil and out of my hair.”

 

Victor chuckled. “And I’m sure Emil’s not complaining one bit about that.”

 

Bursting with her bright laughter, Sara responded, “No… no, I’m sure he’s not.”

 

~~~~~~

 

It was pitch black outside, though the ground was lit with the blurred lights of an urban centre. As the plane circled the city, Victor felt butterflies rise up in his stomach, something he wasn’t even aware he could feel anymore. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this combination of nerves, anxiety, excitement and anticipation. He felt like a teenager going on a first date.

 

Although, he thought, it wasn’t that far from the truth.

 

He watched as the city lights came closer into focus as the plane straightened out and began its final approach to the Detroit Metropolitan Wayne County airport. Yuuri was down there somewhere, waiting for him. His heart sped up again as he tried to convince himself that this was real, and not some fantasy he’d made up from sheer, desperate, loneliness.

 

Having arrived, he passed through customs with the passport Sara had managed to procure, and retrieved his luggage, then trudged through the airport to the pick up area. Yuuri had said he’d be in the short term parking, so that’s where he was headed, glad the signage was at least clear - more clear than his head was, that’s for certain.

 

“Victor!” He turned his head to see Yuuri striding quickly towards him, his eyes shining brightly and an enormous grin he was trying and failing to hold back.

 

“Yuuri!” he called, dropping his luggage and rushing to meet Yuuri where he was. Then, without a second thought he swept him into a hug.

 

_Oh_ , he thought. Maybe that was a little too much, and unwelcome at that. After all, he didn’t know exactly how Yuuri felt about him, or what kind of relationship he wanted.

 

His fears were almost instantly put to rest, however, as Yuuri returned his embrace and held him even more tightly. They stayed like that for a moment, both of them overwhelmed with an unnamed emotion.

 

Victor finally broke the embrace, stepping back slowly while rubbing Yuuri’s back, not wanting to lose the physical contact entirely. Yuuri, who was slightly shorter, gazed up at him, eyes still sparkling as if he was searching for something. Victor found himself rooted to the spot, his own eyes locked on Yuuri’s.

 

“I can’t believe you’re really here, that you came,” Yuuri murmured after a moment, then with a little shake of his head he stepped around him in the direction of his abandoned luggage. “Well, come on then, let’s get you back to the house. Phichit is waiting for us - he’s rather anxious to meet you!”

 

Victor was rather anxious to meet him too, truth be told. And for a number of reasons - not only was he going to be the one accompanying Victor on the job, but he was Yuuri’s best friend. He was fully expecting some sort of shovel talk, but he still hoped that he could gain Phichit’s approval.

 

~~~~~~

 

The next couple days were domestic bliss as far as Victor was concerned, and he was in heaven. While Yuuri’s house didn’t have the luxuries he was used to, or even that he had enjoyed while at Sara’s condo, it had _Yuuri_. Yuuri, who he learned was most definitely _not_ a morning person. Yuuri who dressed in sweats and left his hair down and fluffy when he was at home rather than the slick backed style he sported in the field… and Yuuri who was the most amazing cook. He’d introduced Victor to his favourite dish, Katsudon, on his first night, and Victor was hooked. The high from a good meal and Yuuri’s company even carried him through the much anticipated shovel talk from Phichit when Yuuri had been busy with the dinner clean up.

 

He’d found Phichit to be a little wary around him, but that was much less that Victor had expected in terms of hostility. After all, Phichit didn’t know him aside from the fact that he was a career criminal and whatever he and Chris had gossiped about. Which… well, Chris probably wasn’t the best character reference, so he was amazed by the cautious acceptance by Yuuri’s best friend.

 

His favourite part by farhad been watching Yuuri go about his daily life. Seeing his bedhead in the morning, watching the careful way he made his tea, and finding a rhythm together while prepping meals - it was everything Victor had ever dreamed of, and nothing he thought he’d ever have.

 

~~~~~~~

 

The few days of bliss ended much too quickly, and Victor found himself once again crossing an international border, now on his way to Montreal. Yuuri had procured another passport for him, so there was nothing to connect his false identity entering the US to his false identity entering Canada, which meant even if Yakov managed to trace him to the Crispino’s, the trail should grow cold in the US. They’d also decided to drive to avoid the cameras that came with the tighter airport security.

 

The trip would have been nine hours, but they were stopping in Ottawa to pick up a few things at the Interpol office there. They had arranged for some tech to help with the operation, new and more complete documents for Victor in anticipation of the trip to Japan, and a replica of the Honjō Masamune. They didn’t know exactly what the famous sword looked like, since there were no public photos of the sword available. The replica was based on a painting owned by the Tokugawa family that depicted one of their ancestors with the sword, and they thought it should pass muster in the short term, especially since they would not be alerted to the fact someone was after the sword.

 

During the trip Victor felt himself relaxing and becoming more comfortable with Phichit, whose sunny disposition smoothed over any awkwardness. He made sure to answer all of Phichit’s questions honestly, no matter how personal, very much wanting to gain Phichit’s trust. He could imagine how hard Yuuri’s move would be on Phichit, and at the least he hoped that getting to know Victor better would provide him some comfort.

 

When they finally approached Ottawa, Victor felt his anxiety grow, and he ceased his upbeat chatter with Phichit in favour of staring out the window. They had decided that he would turn himself in at the Ottawa office, both because Detroit didn’t have a section office and because Canada had treaties that would treat him favourably in terms of international relations once he was in custody.

 

Phichit, sensing his unease was quick to reassure him. Everything had already been arranged and approved, he’d told Victor. Both Yuuri, Minako, and Yuuri’s boss Celestino had vouched for Victor and the plans were settled.This was really more of a formality.

 

Even though Victor trusted them, it was so hard to believe. So hard after being on the run from law enforcement for so long to physically make himself walk into the office to hand his fate over to others. With Yuuri it was ok. He knew Yuuri, he trusted him. But these were people he’d never met, people who had no idea of who he was other than a long list of crimes in a database.

 

Still, when it came down to it, he trusted Yuuri. With that thought in mind, he steeled himself and headed in, a slight step behind Phichit to finally face the consequences of the life he’d lived.

 

And hours later as they exited the building, Victor had never felt lighter, so unencumbered. He had been processed, his photo and fingerprints taken, his cheek swabbed for a DNA record and official documentation filled out. But then he’d been led to a room with another agent who had handed him a folder full of documents and explained to him what was expected of him and what would follow after he obtained the sword. He was to head back to Ottawa with Phichit, where he’d hand over the sword. Then Phichit would be his escort until he was passed to Yuuri. He was told he was not to leave Phichit’s sight; Phichit was essentially his ‘jailor’ for the moment until everything was complete and custody of him would be handed over to Yuuri.

 

They also explained to him the limitations he would have afterwards. Aside from small things like banking and utilities, he would be unable to do anything for himself. He was truly in custody, and Interpol would be his legal guardian in most matters. He’d be unable to travel, not even locally without permission, and wouldn’t be able to leave a certain radius of his home without his ‘handler’. He’d have to wear a tracking device at all times, would never be allowed a weapon unless his handler determined he was in danger, and would never be able to enter certain jurisdictions that didn’t have a reciprocal agreement with Interpol.

 

Although it was complicated, it was also very simple. All Victor would have to do when everything was said and done was _live_. Despite all the restrictions, it was more freedom than he’d had since the day his father had died.

 

For the first time in his life, Victor felt himself at peace with himself and the decisions he had made.

 

~~~~~~~

 

They arrived in Montreal late at night, though Phichit had ensured a guaranteed late check in, so losing their reservation was not a problem. Looking at the double beds, Victor silently bemoaned the lack of privacy, but knew it was inevitable (and necessary from Interpol’s perspective).

 

They both collapsed into bed without talking much, Phichit just sending a text to Yuuri to let them know everything had gone ok. Victor didn’t have a phone, as he’d given Sara’s loaner back and hadn’t bothered to pick up another one.

 

Despite everything that had happened the day before - or maybe because of it - Victor had slept deeply and peacefully without dreaming. He woke up unexpectedly refreshed and with a hopeful anticipation thrumming through his chest. He got himself ready while Phichit enjoyed a more leisurely journey to wakefulness, and was ready and eager to face the day when Phichit finally dragged himself out of bed.

 

They spent the day doing a little sightseeing, mostly in old Montreal, and even rented a pair of skates to go skating at the rink at the old Port. When they tired of that they made an excursion past JJ’s house to get a better sense of the area than satellite images could provide.

 

It was an ugly neighbourhood. A neighbourhood that must have been marketed to the “nouveau riche”, but failed spectacularly to impress. The houses were crammed together in a strange architectural mesh-mash, each fighting to be the most pretentious, but the small plots, narrow streets and cookie cutter nature defeated the attempt. Even the street names were over the top and tacky, including names of titles both civil and royal. Victor was sure that anyone with a legitimate pedigree would refuse to even be seen in such a place. All in all it suited JJ to a “T”. Only those with money and no taste would live in such an area.

 

They had a laugh about it during dinner, forging a connection over their mutual disdain for JJ.

 

After dinner they became serious and buckled down to work. Phichit fitted him with an ear piece and showed him how the various tech from Interpol worked. He wasn’t allowed a firearm or a blade, but in recognition that he might have to defend himself he was entrusted with a low level stunner that would incapacitate an attacker for a couple minutes, hopefully allowing him to escape.

 

Phichit would stay in the hotel room while Victor took their rental car and parked on a nearby side street. He would take advantage of a path leading to a playground in a wooded area, and make his way to the rear of the house where he’d be hidden from prying eyes. He’d still have to be careful not to be spotted by security cameras of neighbouring houses, but Phichit had promised that between himself and Chris they’d be able to remove any footage if a camera did pick him up. He’d already hacked into the security systems of the houses along Victor’s path.

 

“Too easy!” He’d scoffed when Victor had raised a questioning eyebrow. “People these days are too reliant on automated technology and smart homes.”

 

Victor had just laughed and said, “You sound just like Chris! The two of you must get along like a house on fire!” He’d been rather amused to see Phichit’s involuntary answering blush.

 

~~~~~~

 

Everything had been going according to plan. Victor had parked just around the corner from the playground they had spotted, and had made his way down the path without being spotted. The snow was deep and prints easily spotted, so he made sure to follow the various paths forged by the multitude of dog walkers that must have passed by. He stayed as close to the trees as he could while hiding signs of his passing, shielding himself from the view of the houses between the playground and JJ, and from the street on the other side of the green space that lined this end of the neighbourhood. The cold was bitter, the wind stinging his face and making his eyes water like it did in Russia, but it took only a minute to reach JJ’s house. He scanned for active security signals like Phichit had instructed, but as expected, Phichit had successfully interrupted the security system.

 

He jumped the fence easily with the help of a limber branch of a young tree nearby, landing in some shrubbery to again mask his tracks. He skirting the pool, keeping to well traveled areas and made his way to the back door. Smiling at the automated locks, he waited until he heard the telltale noise of the slide of a deadbolt that signalled that Phichit had successfully hacked the door. Still, he waited for Phichit’s signal, not wanting to take any unexpected action and accidentally force them to go off plan.

 

He removed his shows to prevent tracking snow (and the resultant melt) and entered the house, looking around in amazement and choking back a laugh. The house was… JJ style. There was no other way to describe it. In such a modern neighbourhood, it was bizarre to enter the house and find it decorated as if it was built at least 100 years prior and modernized in the inconvenient way that only historic buildings were. From the outside, the house had looked like a modern day castle, turret and all. On the inside was dark wood, mismatching tile, poor space organization and a mix of luxury with the unspeakably tacky.

 

Shaking his head, he made his way quickly through the house, gaping at the garish combinations of tile and wallpaper as he went room to room. It was a shame, really, he thought. The architecture had leant the house good bones, but it had been utterly destroyed by the interior choices. Forcing himself to focus, he continued on, inspecting each of the rooms without finding the sword before going upstairs. He tried the master bedroom first, thinking that someone like JJ was sure to have it on display, and sure enough, it hung in a display case right by the sitting area.

 

Swiftly getting to work, Victor first unwrapped the fake sword from a protective cloth and laid it straight. He then checked the case for any additional security, and, finding an almost unnoticeable motion detector by the lid, disabled it and opened the case. He studied the mounting of the sword, and satisfied there were no pressure sensors, he removed the sword and carefully set it down next to the fake. He took a photo as Phichit had requested, then put the fake in the case. He made sure to align the lid of the case carefully, then reactivated the motion sensor. Wrapping the real sword in the cloth, he strapped it to his back and gave Phichit the signal he was ready to leave. They had maintained radio silence the entire time, but Victor knew Phichit had been keeping an eye on him through a camera embedded in the hat he was wearing.

 

He wasted no time exiting the house through the door he’d entered, and practically ran back to the rental car, forcing himself to move slowly and look casual for the last short distance when he had made it back to the street.

 

The adrenalin was pumping hard and fast in his system as he drove back to the hotel. Not because this had been a difficult job - far from it, actually. It was probably one of the easiest he’d ever done, and an anticlimactic almost disappointing end to his career as the ‘living legend’. Which was ironic considering the value of the object he had stolen.

 

The value, not just to the world and to Japan, but to himself.

 

Because this time… this time the reward of a successful job was his freedom. It was a reality that was finally starting to sink in, and his heart would not stop racing. The bundled sword lay on the floor in front of the passenger seat, catching his eye every time he stopped for a red light.

 

He had done it. He had fulfilled his obligation to Interpol, so now they would fulfill theirs. From this moment forward, Victor finally had a future he was excited about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Honjō Masamune:  
> Scroll down to swords: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Masamune
> 
> https://www.ancient-origins.net/artifacts-other-artifacts/searching-honjo-masamune-lost-samurai-sword-power-005807
> 
> Old Montreal:  
> https://www.mtl.org/en/explore/musts/old-montreal-s-architectural-treasures-gleam
> 
> Skating:  
> https://www.mtl.org/en/what-to-do/activities/old-port-montreal-ice-skating-rink  
>  Next year worlds is in Montreal, so if anyone is going, there’s lots to do :)
> 
> More on JJ:
> 
> JJ’s house:  
> https://www.realtor.ca/real-estate/19325010/4-bedroom-single-family-house-3109-av-des-aristocrates-duvernay-laval-val-des-brises
> 
>  
> 
> I mention the rink that is 30 minutes from JJ’s house is one that Olympic ice dancers trained at - true - Virtue and Moir trained at the Gadbois Centre prior to the 2018 Olympics. They were coached by Marie-France Dubreiul and Patrice Lauzon, who were ice dance partners and are now married and coaching. I thought it was rather appropriate little detail since JJ’s parents in canon are ice dancers :) (and actually now I wonder if the pair was the inspiration behind JJ’s parents)
> 
> Fascinating little blog of the history of the LeRoy name in Quebec I came across (not relevant really, but if you like history it’s interesting).  
> http://leroy-quebec.weebly.com/the-surname-leroy.html
> 
> If I can’t get the next chapter up next Friday, it will be the Friday after. I’m debating whether to split it in two :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor regrets thinking that things were too easy. Things happen. Happy endings :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switching POV in this one - they’re clearly marked. Keep in mind when it switches the timeline isn’t quite sequential - it does back up in time a few times. 
> 
> Chapter count went up by 1 :)
> 
> A bit of angst in this one, but don’t worry, you’ll be smiling by the end of the chapter.
> 
> Ok, so please be kind, I fudged the timeline a bit to get a scene in that I realized too late wouldn’t work if it was “winter” in Frýdlant since it’s more mild there. But I think the scene is worth it :) 
> 
> Also, some of this is rough, so apologies. I just don’t have the time I had for the first half of the story to go back and edit. Also I have no beta.

~~~~~~~ Victor ~~~~~~~

 

He should have known it was too easy, the thought flitting almost lazily through the haze that was quickly taking over his mind. Things were just working out _too_ well. Life was just too good for it to last.

 

Because nothing that was good had ever stayed for long in Victor’s life (except his brother and his dog, anyway).

 

Phichit had left the hotel room to do… something. Obviously he couldn’t tell Victor what it was, but it related to his job somehow. Victor had stayed put as long as he could, but had the itch to just _move_. He had pondered what he could do - he didn’t want to go far and he _really_ didn’t want to look like he was trying to leave. The ankle bracelet he had been fitted with meant that Interpol knew every step he took, every time his heart skipped a beat, and even when he was sleeping. He had known from the moment Yuuri had mentioned he’d be taken into custody that he’d have to wear one for life, and he was just glad that before leaving Italy he’d bought a nice pair of ankle boots that hid it nicely. It wasn’t that he minded wearing it - he completely understood the necessity - but he really didn’t need to advertise the fact to others.

 

His was a bit unique as well. Interpol had been working with various companies to come up with a more subtle ankle GPS device, and one that tracked more than just physical location. This one had sensors that would not just track him and act as a geofence, but also provide information about his heart rate and sleep, much like a fitness tracker. He suspected future ones would be record and report even more information, perhaps embedded into the skin, but his prototype would help them evaluate if the information was even useful.

 

His mind continued to wander aimlessly, drifting through various memories and musings while his thought processes slowed down as the tranquilizer took effect.

 

He attempted to fight the lethargy and focus on his surroundings. He confirmed that he was bound and gagged and seemed to be lying down in the back seat of a car. He wondered absently how simply leaving the hotel to get a decent coffee could lead to this predicament, and felt a pang of fear rip through him as he realized how this would look to Interpol. It would look like he was trying to escape.

 

They might not even know he’d been abducted. Worse yet, they might not even _suspect_ it, which meant that they’d probably be operating under the assumption that he’d gone against their agreement and tried to make a run for it.

 

His chest felt tight as he contemplated the implications of that. His situation was worse than desperate, and he had no hope that he’d survive this. Even if he did, there’s no way that Interpol would trust him again. He knew that they’d label him a flight risk at the very least.

 

He succumbed to both his despair and the effects of the tranquilizer, vaguely thinking that maybe sleep was preferable to everything else anyway.

 

~~~~~~ Yuuri ~~~~~~

 

Yuuri was shaken out of his concentration by the sound of Phichit’s ringtone. He had just been finalizing the details of their anticipated arrival in Japan. _That’s odd_ , he thought, he had just finished talking to Phichit a few minutes ago. There was no reason for him to call again so soon… unless something had gone wrong.

 

His heart was in his throat as he answered, “What’s wrong, Peach?”

 

“Victor’s gone.”

 

“What!!!!????” Yuuri shouted into the phone, probably making Phichit wince. “What do you mean by _gone_ , exactly?”

 

“Exactly what I said,” Phichit replied, his tone biting. “Gone. As in vanished. Vamoosed. As in no trace of him. No note, no nothing. The concierge said he left over an hour ago.”

 

“But…” Yuuri paused, thinking rapidly. Victor knew better than to leave the vicinity. What was he thinking? Had he been wrong to trust the man? “What about the sword?”

 

“Oddly enough, it’s still here. Maybe he thought it was too risky to take with him,” Phichit said bitterly. “I can’t believe we trusted the guy.”

 

Yuuri went quiet, pulling up Victor’s file on his laptop. “I refuse to believe it was a mistake to trust him, Phichit. If he left, it must have been for a good reason.”

 

Phichit snorted. “Don’t get your hopes up, Yuuri. The man is a thief and has been for the majority of his life. But don’t worry, it’s not just you. He had me completely fooled too.”

 

“Hold on, Phichit. Don’t pass judgment yet. I’m logging into the tracking program and I’ll see where he’s at and download the history. He might have just gone for a walk.”

 

“Don’t be stupid, Yuuri. He knew not to go anywhere.”

 

“ _Exactly,_ Phichit. He knows we can track him, and the bracelet will send an immediate alarm if it’s tampered with. So there’s no point in leaving until he had a plan in place. It would be more like Victor to wait until we were established in Japan and our guard was down. Making his escape now isn’t consistent with how he does things.”

 

“Yuur -”

 

“I’ve got him!” Yuuri interrupted. “Oh… oh…”

 

“What?!!!”

 

“I’ll send you the data and you can see for yourself.” Yuuri quickly took a few screen shots and sent them to Phichit. His mind raced as he put two and two together.

 

“Oh, shit. This doesn’t make any sense unless - ”

 

“The LeRoys got him. Or one of their men, anyway,” Yuuri answered, stating the conclusion they had both drawn.

 

“Shit.”

 

Yuuri let out an answering hum of agreement as he studied the data a bit further. The GPS showed that Victor had left the hotel, walked less than a block and had gone part way down an alley. Then, the biometric data showed his heart rate spiking for about two minutes despite no movement to account for it. His heart rate then suddenly slowed and remained at a rate that could only mean he was asleep or unconscious. But while his heart rate started to slow, there was some movement - further down the alley, then a pause, then quick movement which would indicate he was in a vehicle.

 

His current location was in a warehouse by the docks. A warehouse well known to be in LeRoy’s territory. Now they just had to get to him before it was too late.

 

“I’ll call the Ottawa office and conference you in,” Yuuri said, tone steady and with a manner that was all business. “I think the data is enough of an indication Victor didn’t leave by choice. We’ll get them to send a field agent. Or a few.”

 

“Ok,” Phichit acknowledged, the evidence before him undeniable. “I’m… I’m sorry Yuuri. I’m sorry for doubting him but I’m sorry for not keeping him safe.”

 

If there was one thing he really admired about Phichit, it was his ability to admit he was wrong - without being defensive and without his pride getting in the way. “It’s ok, Peach. I understand. And besides, you’re not a field agent. We thought it was a low enough risk that we wouldn’t need one, but I guess not. It’s our fault for not planning this better. Alright, I’m hanging up now. I’ll call you after I connect with the Director.”

 

~~~~~~

 

Yuuri wasn’t the least bit surprised when he called Ottawa and his report was met with disbelief. After all, Victor was well known throughout Interpol; his exploits were truly legendary, and more so was his ability to escape every situation. Added to that, not many knew the circumstances that had led Victor to turn to Interpol, so there was a general disbelief by most staff that he’d willingly surrendered himself. Regardless, the arrangements had been made by Minako and endorsed Celestino, and the two of them commanded enough respect that Yuuri knew that the Ottawa Director wouldn’t let her personal opinion cloud his judgement.

 

In the end, although it took all of Yuuri’s (Phichit’s) persuasive powers, but once they convinced the Director to look at the data, she acknowledged that it was apparent both that Victor hadn’t just run off, and that he was probably in danger. She immediately dispatched a group of field agents, led by one of Yuuri’s favourite Interpol agents, Leo de la Iglesia of the cyber crime group, who was in town investigating some allegations regarding international election meddling.

 

It was ironic, actually, since Leo was related to the same de la Iglesia family that had been the victim of one of Victor’s crimes - the one where they first met.Despite that, he wasn’t concerned about sending Leo to rescue Victor - Leo had been the first one to give him a hard time about getting so close to Victor and letting him get away. When Yuuri had asked him about the Egg, he had just shrugged and replied that he had always wondered how his family had acquired it, and since it was the only item stolen, there was a good chance that it hadn’t really been theirs to begin with. It was such a Leo-like reaction. Knowing him, he was probably thoroughly enjoying the fact that he was rescuing the infamous Victor Nikiforov. Yuuri often admired Leo for his laid-back attitude and the way he was able to just roll with the punches.

 

Unlike Yuuri who was quickly entering a deep panic.

 

It would take Leo and the others just under two hours to reach Victor. Phichit would remain at the hotel, coordinating communication and dealing with anything electronic.

 

And Yuuri… Yuuri was left to panic by himself nearly 600 miles away from the man he had come to believe was the love of his life.

 

~~~~~~ Victor ~~~~~~

 

The first thing he became aware of was a dull throbbing encompassing his entire head, and he briefly wondered why he’d decided it was a good idea to go on a bender. He lay still, just existing in the agony of his pounding head, while he slowly came back to full consciousness.

 

Eventually he became aware that things were not as they should be. For one, he was lying on a hard surface, one that he suspected was concrete. For another, he was definitely bound. With a rush of panic his memories came back to him - he’d been walking to a nearby coffee shop when a man had grabbed him from the side and dragged him down an alley with a gun to his head. He’d demanded that Victor confirm his identity, and when Victor had refused he’d been hit in the temple with the butt of the gun. It had all been a little confusing after that, but what he’d managed to gather is that his assailant had worked for Yakov at one point and during the course of a job has seen Victor and his distinctive silver hair. Now it seemed he either worked for, or wanted to work for, JJ. Which was… just great. The last thing Victor needed was to be dragged in front of the LeRoys.

 

It was all just so _frustrating_. He’d been so close to permanent retirement, so close to leaving this life entirely… and maybe even to finding love.

 

He kept his eyes closed and his breathing even so no one would notice he was awake. He noted that the gag had been removed, which at least made his breathing easier.

 

After a few minutes he began to make sense out of the noises around him - a clanking he identified as the movement of cranes, the call of gulls in the air, and the distinctive whizzing noise made by forklifts. There was also a lot of banging, as if pallets were being placed somewhere, or crates being loaded and unloaded. He could also make out the occasional barked command and distant laughter. He surmised he must be near the docks in one of the LeRoy’s warehouses.

 

Once he confirmed there were no sounds indicating that anyone was nearby, he dared to open his eyes just a crack. He’d been right, he was lying down in the corner of a warehouse, likely right by the office if the bright light coming from behind him was any indication. There was no noise coming from behind him, so he surmised that it was currently empty.

 

He opened his eyes all the way after confirming there was no one in his immediate vicinity, or for that matter, no one paying him any attention at all.

 

 _How sloppy,_ he thought. Didn’t they know who they were dealing with?

 

He surveyed his surroundings more carefully, looking for escape routes and potential weapons. If he was by the office, there was likely to be a man door on one side of it, which would be the quickest route out. It was also the route that was likely best covered by cameras, but he didn’t care about that right now. He could always get Chris to erase the footage. Or Phichit if he was so lucky as to be accepted back by Interpol.

 

Having come up with a rough plan and several alternatives, he began contemplating the immediate problem of getting out of his bonds. His hands were tied behind him and his ankles were secured with something that… didn’t feel like rope. He huffed a laugh internally. _Amateur_. The man that had nabbed him had taken advantage of circumstance, but obviously hadn’t thought beyond the moment. If it had been Victor, the first thing he would have done is make sure the victim was properly secured before waking.

 

As he slowly arched his back to bring his hands closer to his feet, he heard a soft whoosh coming from behind him, and saw a corresponding beam of light appear in front of him and slightly to the right. He froze, knowing that someone had opened the man door he had been planning to escape from. But instead of the loud echo of footsteps that he expected from the arrival of someone who belonged there, the only indication of movement was the faint swish of fabric.

 

He kept still, eyes hooded, waiting to see what the apparent intruder would do.

 

“Victor?” came a whispered question, the accent unmistakably southern American. “Dude, you awake or do we need to carry you out?”

 

Not wanting to second guess his saviour(s), he opened his eyes and responded immediately, voice equally soft. “Yeah, I’m awake. What’s the plan?”

 

The man moved to him and expertly sliced through the material binding him. “We leave. _Now_.” He answered with a blinding grin.

 

Victor wasted no time, taking the man’s offered hand, hauling himself up, and followed him through the door as silently as he could.

 

Momentarily blinded from the sun, and still a bit woozy from the tranquilizer and blow to the head, he failed to notice the other two standing on either side of the door until one grabbed his arm to steady him.

 

“The car’s not too far. Security here isn’t tight, so no one has noticed us here. You’re lucky that whoever grabbed you isn’t in the inner circle where the _real_ goods are kept. Let’s go - we can talk in the car.”

 

Victor refrained from answering, using all his energy and concentration to keep himself upright and follow the other men the best he could. Fortunately, the man was right, and it wasn’t long before he was carefully guided into the back seat of a car, the first man following beside him and the other two getting in up front. They left immediately, and Victor closed his eyes, leaning back to rest his aching skull on the headrest.

 

“If it’s not too much to ask… to whom do I owe my thanks?”

 

“Oh - we’re with Interpol. I’m Leo… Leo _de la Iglesia_ ,” he emphasized.

 

Victor gulped and sat up straight again, looking over at Leo cautiously. He realized immediately that Leo must be related to the family that had owned the Faberge Egg he had taken for Yakov. Of all the agents that could have been sent to rescue him, it had to be one that had every reason _not_ to help him. He wondered if that meant that he was being taken in to be incarcerated, his previous agreement with Interpol deemed void.

 

“So… Nikiforov…” Leo continued, smirking. “You want to explain yourself, and a certain _Egg_ you were involved with a few years ago???”

 

“Ummm… well, uh, so, um, well, you see…” he sputtered, at a complete lack of words for once. Despite being known for his charm, his current circumstances had robbed him of all his usual charisma.

 

Leo just laughed at his response. “Don’t sweat it, Nikiforov. I’m quite aware that the main branch of the family didn’t rise to their current status through entirely honourable means. Not many knew of that Egg; for you to know of it, I’m guessing it had been stolen to begin with.”

 

Victor nodded cautiously in acknowledgment. “Yes, it belonged to a Russian envoy who was in America securing a loan for Russia. It’s believed that he was killed when his ship sank, and his possessions were never recovered.”

 

“Ah… yes, I can see how that likely played out. Relax, Nikiforov. Working for Interpol I’m well aware that things aren’t as they always seem and even the people that appear noble can hide some _very_ dirty secrets. As far as I’m concerned, no one was hurt, so no harm, no foul.” Leo shrugged his shoulders, dismissing the topic.

 

Both men sat in silence while the car worked its way through traffic. Finally, Victor couldn’t stand the suspense and spoke up. “Um… if I can ask, where are we headed?”

 

Leo raised an eyebrow at him. “Back to Phichit until we get further instructions. I also need to do a field test to see if you’re concussed, any lingering effects from the drugs you were hit with. Why? Where did you think we were headed?”

 

Victor gave a minute shrug. “I can imagine how my disappearance looked to Interpol. I wasn’t sure if the arrangement was still valid.”

 

“You have your new jewelry to thank for that. It was pretty obvious what had happened when the biometric data showed you were unconscious but yet the GPS had you moving in a vehicle of some kind. Still, you’ll have to thank Yuuri. He figured it out right away and convinced the Director to send us.”

 

Victor felt a rush of emotion with Leo’s explanation. Yuuri had trusted him, and had believed in him enough to look at the data and try and figure out what happened. His relief was so strong it just about knocked his breath out. Overwhelmed and relieved, he returned to resting his head and closed his eyes for the remainder of the trip.

 

~~~~~~

 

Back at the hotel, Leo confirmed that the was ok aside from a mild concussion, and while he examine Victor Phichit could be heard talking rapidly on the phone and typing away on his laptop.

 

Things, apparently, were moving very quickly, and before Victor knew it, he found himself back in the car headed to Ottawa, with his hair saturated with dye and wrapped in plastic.

 

When he arrived in Ottawa, he was informed that Interpol had decided to get Victor out that night and heighten security in the event that JJ figured out the sword was missing and connected it to Victor’s alleged appearance. (Hence the hair dye) They had experts on hand to take his picture with his newly dark brown locks and provide him with a new passport and other papers. The documents he had been previously been provided would be destroyed.

 

They had already arranged for him to fly out from Ottawa in a few hours despite it being the middle of the night. His destination was Calgary, as was the original plan, and it was where he would meet Yuuri, who would be arriving some time after him. From there they would revert to the original plan, which was to drive to Vancouver through the mountains and catch a flight to Tokyo.

 

Victor tried to absorb the information as best he could, but his head was still spinning and he felt sick from the after effects of the tranquilizer. Luckily, they had decided he needed a temporary handler, so one of the agents that had rescued him would take on that role and deal with the necessary details. He’d never been happier to have a ‘babysitter’, and he happily let his handler take control of the situation and guide him through the airport and everything he needed to do.

 

After his day, Victor just needed rest.

 

~~~~~~ Yuuri ~~~~~~

 

Yuuri had practically worn a hole through the floor while he paced anxiously awaiting for news about Victor. Every now and then he paused, staring at the counter where they had recently made lunch side by side, or the throw blanket on the couch that Victor had wrapped himself in while they watched cheesy romantic comedies.

 

He had enjoyed their time together so much, brief though it was. And it had been both a revelation and a relief when he’d realized just how compatible they were - not just in personality, but living together as well. The two of them just fit together somehow, as if they had always been one whole that had been split in half at some point in the past.

 

And Yuuri didn’t want to give that up.

 

He was so very selfish, but having had a taste of what life could be like with Victor, he’d give almost anything for that life to be a permanent reality. And they were so, so close to that reality before Victor had been abducted.

 

His phone rang, startling Yuuri out of his thoughts, somehow taking him by surprise despite the fact that he had been waiting for the call. He was always glad to hear Phichit’s ring tone, but this time he was even more grateful for its obnoxious sound.

 

“Peach?” he answered, keeping his voice as steady as he could.

 

“We’ve got him, Yuuri. Leo’s headed back with him now.”

 

Yuuri sighed in relief. “What’s his status? His heart rate seems pretty stable, but that’s all I can tell from the data.”

 

“Head injury. They’re waiting till he gets back to do more of an assessment, but it looks like that’s it. Don’t worry, Yuuri, at most it’s a concussion. The agents reported he’s coherent and was able to move under his own power. He’ll be fine.”

 

Yuuri let out the breath he’d been holding and dropped to the couch in relief. “Oh, _thank god_. It could have been so much worse.”

 

“Mmmm,” Phichit answered, distracted. “We’re lucky, but it seems that the LeRoys weren’t yet aware of his presence. That could change quickly though, so we need to make alternate arrangements.”

 

Yuuri sprung to his feet again. “Understood. Do you want to call the Director, or shall I?”

 

“Go ahead. They’ll be arriving soon, and I’ll need to give them my full attention. I’m logged into Skype, so just IM me with instructions.”

 

“Ok, will do.”

 

~~~~~~

 

It was hours later, and Victor was probably at the airport in Ottawa waiting for his flight. Yuuri had rushed to finish packing, glad he’d at least started the process before things had gone awry. He wasn’t able to get to Victor as soon as he’d wanted to, but it wouldn’t be that long before he was able to see him again. There weren’t any direct flights, and Yuuri was forced to wait until morning for the next available flight.

 

Victor was being accompanied by one of the agents that had rescued him - both as a necessity since he was still technically in custody, and for his protection in case something else happened. Yuuri had been reassured when the Director had agreed to send one of the field agents. He trusted Phichit implicitly, but he really wasn’t trained for that sort of thing. Phichit himself would be back the next day, though by then Yuuri would be in the air somewhere over the midwest.

 

He spent the night lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and going over the next steps again and again until, like counting sheep, it eventually wore his mind down enough to catch a couple fitful hours of sleep.

 

The next morning he rushed to the airport, even though there was no point in getting there early. He just felt the need to move, his anxiety filling him with restless energy. He’d heard from the agent - Victor wouldn’t have a phone of his own until they got to Japan - and everything had gone smoothly.

 

He’d visited a duty free shop, one purchase on his mind, but then felt the niggling doubts of anxiety creeping beneath his skin. To keep himself busy - and to keep his anxiety at bay - he pulled out his laptop and used his phone as a personal hotspot to ensure a secure connection. He opened the spreadsheet he was using to track everything in his personal life that needed to be tied up for his move to Japan. He’d already closed his bank accounts, converting his funds in American banks into bank drafts for easy deposit when he opened a Japanese bank account. He had also executed the necessary documents to transfer his house into Phichit’s name. Most of his furniture would stay, though he had packed up his office which was currently on its way to Japan. They had a few locations earmarked for the long term move, but much of it was going to depend on his negotiations with the Japanese government. In the meantime, his personal belongings would remain in storage in Tokyo. He went over the list… utilities had been transferred to Phichit, his magazine subscriptions canceled, and even his membership to the local gym had been dealt with. His mail was being forwarded to a post office box used by Interpol and would be held for him until he settled.

 

Satisfied everything was under control, he leaned back in an attempt to relax his shoulders.

 

It was so… final.

 

He was excited, for sure, and couldn’t wait to get settled with Victor. But at the same time, he had been both comfortable and proud of the life he’d carved out for himself in Detroit. He’d sacrificed a lot to work with Interpol, but it had all been worth it, and he was truly proud of what he’d accomplished. Walking away from his office with Phichit was much harder than he’d anticipated, even though they both knew that he wasn’t walking away from their partnership.

 

No, they had the type of friendship that they no matter the time or distance, they could pick it up again as if neither existed. They would be ok.

 

With that reassuring thought in his mind, Yuuri heard the boarding call for his flight at last, and packed himself up to start the first step of his new journey.

 

~~~~~~

 

Hours later they had landed, the time zones being kind enough that despite the nearly 8 hour flight with its frustrating stop, he was arriving just after lunch local time.

 

Organized as always, being used to frequent travel, Yuuri was ready to go and out the door as soon as was humanly possible. Although he was exhausted from not sleeping and a long flight, the excitement at the prospect of seeing Victor again had his blood pumping and his mind alert.

 

He kept his frustration to himself as he waited not-so-patiently through customs. He wasn’t using his Interpol credentials for this flight, attempting to mask his trail in any way he could. As far as anyone not directly connected to the arrangement with Victor was concerned, this was a personal trip to do some sight seeing over the holidays, and nothing more.

 

Finally finished with customs, he waited with everyone else for the baggage carousel to spit out his luggage. He normally loved to people watch while he waited, speculating from people’s mannerisms as to why they were there - were they excited? Stressed? Just plain exhausted? But today he had no patience for those sorts of musings, and definitely not the brain power to spend on irrelevant speculation.

 

 _Finally_ his luggage appeared, and he wasted no time grabbing his single suitcase and making his way to the area where international arrivals spilled out into the main airport. Victor would be waiting for him, and he couldn’t wait a second longer to see him.

 

He walked as fast as he could, following the signs to the exit as his mind raced. There was so much he wanted to say to Victor, so much to discuss about how their lives were about to change.

 

The hallway he was following transitioned to a glassed in walkway; one side faced the tarmac, while the other lined the waiting area for arrivals. He glanced over and spotted Victor immediately despite his newly dyed hair. He’d recognize the man anywhere, having memorized the lines of his body and the way he moved. Today though, he looked tired. Worn down, no doubt from his experiences the day before. But Yuuri wasn’t worried. Victor was one of the most resilient people he’d ever met.

 

By some unspoken signal, Victor looked up at that moment, making eye contact with Yuuri easily. Yuuri watched as he gasped, and leapt out of his chair, startling the agent who was seated a few rows away.

 

Victor started running towards the automatic doors that Yuuri would pass though, never breaking eye contact. Yuuri found himself following his lead without realizing it, matching his pace easily, while he too never looked away.

 

When he reached the doors, he jogged in place, the sensors taking too long to recognize his presence and open the doors.

 

Then finally, _finally_ , they opened and he ran to Victor who had opened his arms wide in a welcoming hug, which Yuuri happily fell into.

 

The stood like that for a long moment, Yuuri having outraced all the other passengers to the exit. They clung to each other, gripping hard, like lovers that had experienced a long separation despite it only having been days.

 

Finally Yuuri stepped back and spoke, “I’ve been thinking a lot about what I can do to be better as your handler from now on.”

 

“Oh?” Victor responded, smiling fondly. “I think the best thing you could do is stay with me until you retire.”

 

Yuuri blushed in response to Victor’s choice of words. He knew Victor most likely didn’t understand the significance of what he’d said in Japanese culture, so he decided to tease him a bit.

 

“That almost sounds like a marriage proposal.”

 

Now Victor was blushing, and it was a beautiful sight. He grabbed Yuuri’s hand from where it was still resting on his shoulders and kissed the back of his hand tenderly. “Well, we are supposed to be married, so I suppose my answer is ‘until death do us part’.”

 

With his big romantic gestures this man was going to be the end of him, he thought. But at the moment, he didn’t care - he was just glad to be back by Victor’s side. So he gave into his desire and embraced Victor again, letting his actions be the response he couldn’t find words for.

 

~~~~~~ Victor ~~~~~~

 

The last few hours with Yuuri had been heaven. From their reunion at the airport to getting Yuuri settled in the hotel room, it had all been perfect. Now they just had to plan the next stage of their travel.

 

Since plans had changed unexpectedly after Victor’s abduction, there was enough time before their flight out of Vancouver to enjoy a leisurely drive through the mountains and play at being tourists on the way, and both of them had agreed they should take full advantage of it.

 

Victor had studied the brochures in the hotel in detail while Yuuri attended to his own work matters. An idea had struck him, after seeing one of the brochures, and he was really excited to surprise Yuuri with it.

 

They’d made arrangements to rent a Range Rover - given the time of year and snow in the mountains, neither wanted to take any risks with bad road conditions. Luckily despite it being just before New Year’s they hadn’t had any trouble getting a rental, a situation the clerk had assured them was highly unusual since they were in the prime season for winter travel.

 

Going over their draft itinerary, Victor smiled. They were planning to start their trip slowly, first traveling to Banff and staying overnight. Victor had fallen in love with the Banff Springs Hotels for all that it resembled a castle, and even Yuuri was drawn to its history.

 

(Victor wouldn’t admit it, but he was excited at the possibility of seeing a ghost).

 

But back to his surprise - in their brief stay together in Detroit, Victor had learned that Yuuri was originally from Japan, and that his family had once owned an onsen there. Yuuri hadn’t been able to go back before his family sold the onsen, and hadn’t actually seen his family for over 5 years. The way he spoke of it - the nostalgia, the longing - made Victor hope that they could find a way to visit one when they settled in Japan.

 

But maybe it didn’t have to wait until then. It wouldn’t be the same, but they’d be traveling very close to some natural hot springs, and it would be a very short detour from their hotel to go visit them. Victor was giddy from the idea, and was eager to see Yuuri’s reaction.

 

They were set to leave the next day, so Yuuri was extremely busy tying up some things with work. He was anticipating that he’d be dedicating all of his time to Victor and negotiations with the Japanese government, so was trying to ‘get ahead of the paperwork’ as he’d explained to Victor.

 

It suited Victor’s plans perfectly. He decided to take advantage of it, and making an excuse about picking up a few last minute things, leaving Yuuri to it and sneaking out of the hotel to get both of them swim trunks in anticipation of their trip.

 

~~~~~~

 

It was everything that Victor had hoped for.

 

Yuuri had been both shocked and amazed when Victor had shown him the hot springs. They had both enjoyed relaxing in the healing mineral waters, but Victor thought that there was distinct air around Yuuri that made him look like he had come home. It was not often that Victor had seen Yuuri looking so comfortable in his own skin. He was so pleased that his surprise had worked out, and that Yuuri was enjoying it was much as he’d hoped.

 

After their dip in the hot springs they had returned to their hotel in Banff and chose the wine bar for [dinner](http://www.fairmont.com/banff-springs/pdf/bsh-grapescellar-experiencemenu/).

Both stuffed to the brim, and pleasantly warm from the wine they consumed, they wandered around the hotel after dinner, taking in the Christmas decorations and watching all the tourists. The atmosphere was truly festive, and Victor found himself more relaxed than he’d been in many, many years.

 

They found themselves being drawn by the sounds of a choir. Despite Christmas having passed, the celebrations clearly weren’t over from the jubilant voices they heard echoing through the wide hallway. Suddenly the voices became louder, and a room opened up revealing the singers in their finery and a modest, but enthralled audience. Yuuri grabbed Victor by his hand and led him into the giant room… which could only be termed a ‘hall’ in the language of castled. The room was enormous, with one side entirely dominated by floor to ceiling windows framed by solid stone arches. The windows boasted unique stained glass coats-of-arms, just adding to the majestic quality of the room. The doors were set in the wall beneath stone arches, and there was even a Juliette balcony. A grande old chandelier dominated the light above the choir, while marble floors served to enhance the acoustics. A Christmas tree dominated a corner of the room, of a size that had to have been cut from the old forest surrounding the hotel, but despite its height and girth, looking somehow completely like it belonged.

 

It was beautiful… ethereal… really something that belonged to a dream of those that had lived long ago. It seemed impossible that someone had created this in the modern age. Victor felt himself absolutely bewitched by the magic created by the scene in front of him, and turned to Yuuri in absolute joy, clasping his hand and dragging him forward into the room so they could experience more.

 

Yuuri came willingly, a look of marvel on his face as he took in the sights, and the magic that had been created in this seemingly isolated place. He wrapped his arm around Victor’s waist, protectively, and ventured into the room with a confidence Victor knew was there, but had rarely seen outside Yuuri’s field work.

 

“Victor,” he all but whispered, reverently, “it’s sooo beautiful.To think someone had this vision back then, despite the challenges, and considering the railroad industry wasn’t for the faint of heart. I mean… they cut paths through _mountains_ with _explosives_ and yet someone saw this and knew that they had to share this beauty with the rest of the world. … _Victor_.”

 

“Yes,” Victor answered, completely understanding why Yuuri was overwhelmed, “but it was exactly for that reason that they had to create this. There’s a beauty here that is unsurpassed, that needs to be appreciated for the raw nature that it is. It couldn’t have happened if this hotel didn’t exist. This place exists to showcase the beauty here. Outside it’s rugged, it’s harsh, but there is so much to appreciate in something that has struggled so hard to survive. And inside… a refined beauty that is so distinctly _human_. And yet the two exist side by side so seamlessly.”

 

Yuuri’s eyes had widened as he spoke, their shared passion ignited in his eyes, and he suddenly pulled Victor closer to the windows and away from the crowd gathered and listening to the choir. He faced out the window for a long moment before turning back to Victor, a rich, warm blush gracing his cheeks that traveled down his neck.

 

He was so beautiful like this, Victor thought. Just like the castle, his beauty was refined, like it was a curated display of the best of humanity. His intellect, his kindness, his strength… Victor would never find anyone as beautiful as he found Yuuri, he was sure of that. Yuuri had stolen his heart just as swiftly and covertly as he had stolen all those treasures throughout his career. But he found himself thankful that someone so wonderful had custody of his heart. He’d put his entire life in Yuuri’s hands through their agreement, and it was a decision Victor would never regret.

 

Yuuri’s eyes hadn’t left his own as they moved, sparkling in an unfamiliar way, but one that had Victor’s heart unexpectedly racing. What new surprise would his Yuuri have for him now? For he didn’t doubt for a second that his life with Yuuri would be an unending chain of surprises.

 

Just then, Yuuri broke eye contact, looking down at the floor with a contemplative gaze. After a brief moment, he looked up again, a look of fierce determination lighting up the rich mahogany of his irises, making it appear as if an internal light was shining from behind them.

 

Keeping Victor trapped in his gaze, he fumbled a moment in his pocket before opening his palm before Victor, his blush intensifying.

 

Victor’s eyes flicked down for a second, and he felt himself blush in answer; for there, sitting in Yuuri’s palm, were two gold rings. Wedding bands, if he wasn’t mistaken.

 

“Victor,” Yuuri started, his voice hushed. “I know we haven’t known each other long - at least not in person. But we had enough time together in Detroit that I think we both know that this thing between us is more than just a professional relationship borne out of necessity.”

 

He paused then, clearing his throat, before continuing. “As you know we’ll be posing as husbands with our new identities. But when I bought these I wanted it to be something a bit more than just part of our disguise. I know… I know that some of the most important people in your life that you loved have left you - abandoned you when you were vulnerable. And… I want to make sure you know that I’ll never do that. NEVER, Victor. I will always come back to you unless I physically can’t. So… since I’ll have to spend a certain amount of time away for work I wanted you to have something that was a commitment from me to you - something physical that you could see and touch - so that you would know that I was coming back. A charm if you will. I guess, in Japan it would be a kind of omamori - a charm to ensure my return.”

 

Victor heard himself sob a gasp as he took in Yuuri’s words. Tears escaped his eyes without his permission, but he was beyond caring at that moment. To hear those words from Yuuri… it was like nothing he’d ever dreamed of, nothing he’d ever dared hope for. It was as he’d always known - Yuuri saw _him_ , understood _him_ , and would never ask Victor to be anything other than himself… even if that meant he was a clingy co-dependant mess. In that moment he knew he would never again be known or loved by any other the way Yuuri knew and loved him.

 

By this time Yuuri’s eyes were glistening too. With a watery smile, he continued, “Victor, will you accept my ring?”

 

“Always, Yuuri, always.”

 

Yuuri nodded in acknowledgement as he slid Victor’s ring on his ring finger with trembling hands. When he finished, Victor took the matching ring, and sliding it on Yuuri’s finger, he made his own request.

 

“Stay close to me, Yuuri, and never leave.”

 

Then, in yet another surprise, Yuuri stepped forward, and, rising up on to his toes, met Victor’s lips with his own in a soft kiss that held the promise of a thousand more.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nd there we have it! The end of the story, though there will be an epilogue to tie things up. Should be next Friday, but if not, the Friday after that. Depends on how work goes this week :)
> 
> The look of Victor’s ankle bracelet:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NTxpUtHLyGk
> 
>  
> 
> Regarding Leo and his presence - there’s an upcoming federal election in Canada and ahead of it Canada imposed restrictions on ads - restrictions that Google found too difficult to comply with so Google just ended up banning all political ads.
> 
> https://www.theglobeandmail.com/politics/article-google-to-ban-political-ads-ahead-of-federal-election-citing-new/
> 
> Also, the reason he is included here is it’s part of Victor’s reconciliation with his past. This will be more evidence in the epilogue.
> 
> Banff Springs Hotel - it is seriously beautiful. And haunted!!!
> 
> https://www.fairmont.com/banff-springs/
> 
> Some history:
> 
> http://www.calgaryherald.com/banff+springs+hotel+rail+baron+castle+dreams+celebrates+years/8432294/story.html
> 
> Ghosts!
> 
> https://www.avenuecalgary.com/city-life/the-ghosts-of-fairmont-banff-springs/
> 
> Christmas at the castle (it's stunning!):
> 
> https://www.christmasatthecastle.ca
> 
> Radium Hot Springs - best I could do to get the onsen in there. Seriously, if you ever have the chance, one of the most incredible things you could ever do is a day of skiing in the Rockies followed by a dip in natural hot springs in like -10 to -15 C weather.
> 
> https://www.tripadvisor.ca/Attraction_Review-g182160-d284694-Reviews-Radium_Hot_Springs-Radium_Hot_Springs_Kootenay_Rockies_British_Columbia.html


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happily ever after… and fluff. And closure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor’s POV. The significance of the dogs’ names is in the end notes. Oh, and there's one in text link.
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

~~~~~ 5 Years Later ~~~~~

 

Victor took a deep breath, revelling in the feel of the humid salty air caressing his lungs. Even in winter the air here was soft, comforting. At a distance in front of him two dogs played together, dashing in and out of the cold ocean water in a now familiar dance. He bent over to grab a piece of nearby driftwood, throwing it for the dogs and watching with a smile as they raced for their prize.

 

Poppy won, as she always did. She may be the smaller of the two, but she was more rambunctious than his precious Florentine. Poppy, he thought, was still under the impression she was a puppy despite being over 5 years old now.

 

They had brought them both home from the animal shelter as puppies. Yuuri had fallen in love with Poppy the moment he had seen her, and the feeling had been mutual. The little brown toy poodle had run straight to Yuuri as if she’d been waiting for him all along. Victor himself hadn’t bonded with any of the strays that visit, but it wasn’t long before he’d found his precious Flori. The fact that she was a standard poodle and a larger version of Poppy just made her all the more perfect.

 

He glanced at his watch, and whistled to call the dogs to him. Yuuri’s flight would be landing soon and he wanted to make sure everything was perfect before he arrived home. Even with the amount of travel he did, Yuuri was never good at dealing with jet lag, so he’d planned for a night in.

 

After he’d arrived home and cleaned up both himself and the dogs, he set about making dinner - Yuuri’s favourite katsudon. Yuuri had texted him to let him know he was bringing a guest, but had been vague on who it was, other than to say it was a colleague. Victor was dying of curiosity - aside from Phichit, none of Yuuri’s colleagues had come to visit just in case they recognized him. Which meant that it had to be one of the few people who knew of his situation.

 

Shrugging it off for the moment, Victor continued with prepping dinner, knowing that he’d find out soon enough anyway. He looked up while the pork sizzled, assessing the dining area and family room to make sure everything was ready. The bouquet he’d bought was perfectly centred on the dining room table, the [gentle yellow and gold blossoms](https://www.ftd.com/product/sunny-days-bouquet-prd-d26?0=sunny-days-bouquet&gbb=D26P&id=d26) brightening up a winter’s day. He always made sure that Yuuri was greeted by flowers when he got home from a business trip, though after a rather stern talking to, he’d reduced the size of the bouquets to what Yuuri deemed ‘reasonable’. He, himself, thought they were skimpy.

 

He turned back to the stove with a small pout until the familiar sound of a key in the door alerted him to Yuuri’s presence. Carefully placing the last cutlet of pork on the adjacent wire rack, he turned to greet his husband.

 

“Yuuri!!!!” He called, rushing over.

 

“Vitya!” Yuuri responded, enveloping him in a warm embrace. Even though Yuuri loved his job, both of them hated the separation that came with it when Yuuri had to do field work. It made Victor’s life as a house husband rather lonely at times, and he worried horribly the whole time, always afraid for Yuuri’s safety even though he knew Yuuri was perfectly capable at taking care of himself. He had, at least, picked up a few hobbies to keep himself busy, though they never quite filled the void that Yuuri left when he traveled.

 

After a long moment a subtle cough reminded both of them that Yuuri had brought a guest. Stepping back, Yuuri turned to their guest to make introductions. “Victor, this is… well, you’ll see.” Yuuri said with a carefully suppressed smile that didn’t fool Victor one bit.

 

The woman standing in their doorway unwound the silk scarf covering her head and removed her glasses to reveal bright red hair and sparkling blue eyes. Her cheeks were flushed with what looked like excitement rather than the cold. She looked somehow familiar to Victor, though he couldn’t place where he had met or seen her before.

 

She raised an elegant hand for Victor to kiss in greeting, as she introduced herself. “Mila. It’s nice to see you again Vitya, especially to see you doing so well.”

 

Victor had taken her hand automatically but froze in shock when she used his diminutive. There weren’t many people that would know to use ‘Vitya’. He wracked his mind, but couldn’t focus enough to really concentrate. He was so scared of being found out, of having his true identity revealed. The rational part of his brain knew that Yuuri wouldn’t bring anyone here who would compromise him, but even after the passage of time, the idea of being found scared him to death.

 

Mila must have sensed his turmoil, for she answered his unspoken question immediately. “It’s ok, Vitya. I’m safe, I’m with Yuuri. You probably don’t remember me, so much time has passed, and you’ve been through so much. I’m your cousin. I guess you might not recognize me either - I was still a child when you and Yurio were forced out.”

 

Victor sucked in a gasp. _Of course_! Mila, his favourite little cousin that he loved to play with. She had been such a sweet child, and a very adventurous one at that. “But- what - how??!!!” he sputtered.

 

Mila chuckled, “Well, if you let me in further than the front door, then maybe I can explain.”

 

“Right… sorry,” Victor mumbled, embarrassed at his lack of manners and stepping back. Just then Yuuri’s stomach let out a loud grumble.

 

“Uh… it’s been a while since we ate,” Yuuri explained sheepishly. “And you said you were making katsudon, so…” he trailed off, nose twitching.

 

Victor laughed - his Yuuri was so predictable. “Come in, both of you. Straight to the table! All I have left to do is assembly!” And with that he made haste back to the stove, quickly finishing the sauce and putting everything together.

 

They started with light conversation, but Mila quickly took pity on him and his curiosity, and explained the whole story - finding his picture, her involvement with Yakov (“OMG _You’re_ the RED EAGLE????!!!!” Victor had interjected), and lastly Interpol and the role she had played in his new situation. She explained how she’d been determined to make sure he was ok, having carried the burden of their family’s actions on her shoulders ever since she’d found out what happened.

 

Victor had never felt so loved. He was the luckiest man in the world - he had Yuuri’s love, Yurio’s… and he’d always had Mila’s, though he had never known it. Hearing her story had opened old wounds again, but knowing that at least one member of his family had cared was a balm that healed those old hurts.

 

“It’s so unfair how pretty you are when you cry,” Yuuri murmured fondly as he wiped tears off Victor’s face that he hadn’t even realized were falling.

 

“I’m sorry, love, I’m just so… _happy_.”

 

Yuuri nodded, understanding exactly how Victor felt as he always did. Then he grinned, a big Cheshire Cat sort of grin. “We came bearing gifts, Vitya! A gift from Chris!”

 

“You know what’s happening in Saitama next month don’t you?” Mila added, with an equally wide smile.

 

At that Victor began sobbing for real, nodding his head and at a loss for words.

 

“Now, you can’t see him or talk to him directly,” Yuuri warned. “Not during the competition. It’s just too risky, and there are too many cameras. He’s a favourite to win gold so he’ll have a lot of attention on him. But after, we’ve made arrangements for a couple days after the competition. It’s an exclusive ryokan, a perfect destination for a world champion after a major competition. If he’s spotted, no one will question why he’s there. You’ll also have to go brunette again, I’m afraid.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Mila reassured. “We’ve assessed the security risk and it’s very low. Phichit will be cutting you out of any video footage, but I don’t think even that will be a concern. This ryokan is very discreet, even for a Japanese business.”

 

“Thank you - I -just _thank you_ so much,” Victor choked up. “I know he’s ok, but I never thought I’d have the chance to see him again, never mind see him skate at competition in person. I… I just… I need a moment.”

 

“Of course,” Yuuri replied, standing and giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Come on, Mila, I’ll show you to the guest room so you can unpack and get comfortable.”

 

Mila smiled as she rose, her eyes also a little teary. “Thanks, Yuuri, that would be great.”

 

Victor absently let his gaze trail after the two as he tried to process everything. It was amazing (astounding, surprising, bewildering, stunning, staggering, shocking, startling, stupefying, disconcerting, stupendous, phenomenal,extraordinary, incredible, unbelievable, wonderful, marvellous, thrilling, exciting — every word Victor could think of) to think that after all these years he and Yurio had actual family that not only acknowledged their relation, but obviously cared deeply. Victor was so moved - never had anyone other than Yuuri ever made him feel like he had value. Yurio of course loved him and had depended on him, but that was a different sort of relationship where he was the caregiver. To have people looking after him, and out for him, was something he still struggled to accept he was worthy of.

 

And to find out that for so long he’d actually had someone watching out for him - it somehow made his own burden of those years feel lighter.

 

He felt himself smiling, as the knowledge truly began to sink in. It seemed this was the final thing, the last piece of the puzzle, that he needed to really close the door on his past and move on. Knowing that he was, in some way, still tied to his family allowed him to come to terms with the rejection; it was the acceptance by Mila that allowed him to acknowledge the wrong. He’d always felt in some way that he must have deserved it; that he was really an imposter pretending to be his dad’s son, his heir, and that he was somehow lacking and deserving the fate he’d been dealt. But Mila’s acceptance and affirmation allowed him to accept the truth - that he was the unfortunate victim of the greed and intolerance of others.

 

He took in a deep breath, a tension flowing out of his shoulders that he didn’t realize was there, and breathed more deeply than he could before. He stood then, gathering the dishes to wash and heading to the kitchen. He always found comfort in these household tasks - the domesticity of living with Yuuri had never worn off. Though he had had servants in his previous life, he found so much satisfaction these days in performing these little tasks - he was making their house a home and showing his thanks and appreciation to his husband through these small acts. It was his way of showing his love, devotion and gratitude to the man who had saved him - not just from Yakov, but long before that, Yuuri had saved him from himself. Victor had, through his vows, devoted himself and his life to Yuuri and he made that choice again every single day as they built their life together.

 

Because… yes, they had gotten legally married. It wasn’t necessary since Interpol could arrange the legal documents without any sort of ceremony. But instead, they chose to say their vows in front of a justice of the peace in Vancouver before they’d left for Japan. That night in Banff when they had exchanged rings had changed everything for them. And they decided that they would make the choice to be married - not because they had to, not to protect Victor, but because they _wanted_ to. Yuuri understood how important family was for Victor and wanted him to have the certainty that he would never be rejected, that they were creating a family of their own in truth.

 

Family… Yurio… Victor felt the pride fill him as he turned on the tap and began washing their bowls. In a sense he had been right - his disappearance had been a very good thing for Yurio. As they’d planned, Chris’s family had formally adopted him (not Chris himself so there was no direct link to Victor just in case). Chris had quietly arranged for him to have a proper coach for skating… and Yurio had _thrived_. He had blown through local competitions, entering the international stage with an explosive debut. Though people were curious about his past, the Giacometti name was enough to ensure that no one dug harder than was permitted. ‘The son of a deceased family friend’ was all the detail that was allowed. Otabek was still the only one that knew of Yurio’s relation to Victor, but it seemed he was willing to keep silent on the matter. And Victor sometimes wondered if Otabek was another reason that no one dug further into Yurio’s past.

 

Victor had only spoken to his brother once since everything had gone sideways. It was just before they left for Japan on a secure channel that both Phichit and Chris had tinkered with and verified until they were certain it couldn’t be traced. It had been a hard conversation, but in the end, Yurio was happy as he knew that Victor was alive and would be ok wherever he was, and Victor was happy that Yurio would be taken care of. His little brother was a spitfire and had the strength that not many could comprehend, and Victor knew he’d be ok.

 

And now… he felt like he’d finally fulfilled the responsibility to Yurio that he’d taken on so many years ago. Yurio had grown into a fine young adult - one with passion, dedication and drive who was pursuing his dreams. Victor couldn’t be happier that he was allowed those dreams - dreams that Victor himself had never had the luxury to even consider. But his brother deserved everything, and he couldn’t be happier or more proud of who he’d become. Yurio’s future was so, so bright, with every possibility open to him that he would have had if they hadn’t been… well, if things had been as they should have been. That was Victor’s ultimate goal for Yurio; and it had been achieved, albeit not how he’d expected.

 

He shook his head, almost in disbelief and began drying the dishes and putting them away. To think that Yurio was in the _world championships_! He wasn’t surprised because he knew how good his brother was, but to think he was _finally_ competing! It made him giddy with excitement… he couldn’t wait.

 

~~~~~~~

 

It had been almost a month since Mila had come for a visit, with promises to come again when she could. Yuuri had been home ever since, which Victor had been grateful for. Once Yuuri had finished his paperwork for his last assignment he’d even been able to enjoy some time off, and the two of them had enjoyed just being able to spend time together without interruption.

 

And now the time had come to leave for Saitama. Victor was beyond excited, and nervous both for Yurio and the challenge he faced in competition, but also for himself. He wasn’t entirely sure how Yurio would react to seeing him, though Yuuri assured him Yurio was excited. It had been over 5 years since he’d seen his little brother. When he’d left for Frýdlant Yurio had still been a teen - a child, really. Now he was an adult, and one that by all accounts was extremely accomplished and had a rare work ethic. Victor couldn’t be more proud of who Yurio had become, and he was excited to tell him so in person.

 

But most of all, he just wanted to hold his little brother in his arms again, just like he had time and time again as they were growing up and Victor had had to soothe his worries and his hunger. He marvelled at how far they had come since the days when they lay starving on the street, Victor not knowing if they’d survive the next day.

 

He leaned against Yuuri’s shoulder, looking past him as the scenery whizzed by outside the train window. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to doze, lulled by the movement of the train and the warmth radiating from his husband… it wouldn’t be much longer now.

 

~~~~~~

 

The competition had been _amazing_. Victor had enjoyed every second, and from what he could tell, Yuuri had as well. There had been some incredible highs and lows, with some skaters putting on their best performance of the season, and others favoured to place highly, struggling and ultimately losing ground against others.

 

In the end, Yurio hadn’t quite captured gold. But with a world record performance in the short program, he wore his silver with pride. It was amazing how far he’d come in 5 years, and Victor couldn’t be more proud. He had always hoped that Yurio would be able to live out his dreams in a way he hadn’t… at least not until he’d met Yuuri.

 

He was currently ensconced in a private bath at the Ryokan that Yuuri and Mila had booked. Yurio had already arrived, and they’d reunite shortly for dinner once Yurio had settled in. In the meantime he was taking advantage of the amenities and trying to relax.

 

Yuuri poked his head in to let Victor know it was time to get ready, and despite the lure of the bath, he eagerly pulled himself out and hurriedly dried himself off and made himself presentable.

 

He was so quick that they beat Yurio to the dining area, Yuuri teasing Victor for foregoing some of his usual primping. Victor had been too anxious to care if his skin was a little dry or that his hair was a little frizzy. Not when Yurio was so close. He sat kneeling at the table with Yuuri by his side, unable to control his nervous fidgeting. Yuuri didn’t comment, just rubbed his back in long soothing strokes in a silent show of support.

 

When at last he heard footsteps nearing the entrance, he leapt to his feet, completely focused on the entrance to the dining room. And there, equally frozen stood his little brother. All traces of the child he had been were gone. He’d always been slender, but now that he was right in front of him, Victor could see that his slender frame was now filled out with the muscles of a man, and his once scrawny angular face now sported a chiselled jaw line complete with stubble. He’d grown too, at least four inches, and now matched Victor’s height. The one thing that hadn’t changed though, were his emerald eyes that always shone with a surety and determination Victor had always admired.

 

For a moment they just stared at each other before a nudge from Yuuri finally spurred him into action. With a few long strides he found himself in front of his brother, enveloping him in a hug that was long overdue. His brother returned the embrace immediately, tucking his head into Victor’s shoulder as he always did when he was seeking comfort and didn’t want Victor to see him cry. His arms tightened around Victor, holding him so tightly it was verging on painful. But he didn’t care. This was something that after Frýdlant he had never dared to hope he’d be able to experience again. And he realized that he could never regret his life choices since they led him here, to this very moment.

 

Yurio hung on a long time, Victor feeling his shoulders shake in silent sobs before they slowed and he finally let him go. He wiped at his eyes with the same scowl that had graced his features daily as a teenager, and the familiarity of it brought a smile to Victor’s face. It was good to see that at least some things hadn’t changed.

 

“It’s good to see you, Yurio. I missed you so, so much,” Victor said as he finally found his voice.

 

“Pfft! Did you watch? Chris said you’d be there,” Yuuri asked anxiously.

 

“Of course I did, Yurio. I couldn’t be more proud. It was incredible!”

 

Yurio smiled in response - the first real smile that Victor had seen in a long, long time.Puberty was never easy, and it certainly hadn’t been kind to Yurio who had been a ball of teenage angst for years. But now it seemed the rage was gone, or at least controlled and directed in a more productive way.

 

“Not to interrupt your reunion, but are you going to ignore your best friend, mon ami?”

 

Victor finally turned his head towards Chris, who had accompanied Yurio. “Of course not,” he replied, diving in for a side hug. “Thank you Chris - thank you for everything, and especially for everything that you’ve done for Yurio. I can’t even begin to tell you how happy it makes me to see he’s finally able to chase his dreams.”

 

“It’s been my pleasure, Vitya. You know this. I’m just glad it didn’t have to happen because you had _actually_ died. I have to admit, that little adventure took away some of my taste for our past escapades.”

 

Victor chuckled. “I can imagine. Though Yuuri tells me that -”

 

“Uh-uh Victor,” Yuuri interrupted, slapping a hand over his mouth. “That’s enough. You know better than that.”

 

“Sorry, Yuuri, you’re right, I do,” Victor apologized sheepishly. It had been so long since he’d been in the game he’d lost some of his old habits such as talking around topics instead of discussing things openly. Victor glanced at Yurio, happy to see that he was just giving them a confused look.

 

“Whatever, old man. Can we eat now? I’m dying for some real food after keeping to a competition diet all season.”

 

_Ah_ , _there is the Yurio I know and love_ , thought Victor.

 

“Of course. You three sit - I’ll let the staff know we’re ready to eat,” Yuuri volunteered, leaving the room.

 

By the time dinner had arrived the group settled into conversation as if Victor had never been gone. Although Yuuri remained rather quiet, since he in some sense was the outsider, he contributed now and then. And with Yuuri by his side Victor was comfortable enough that he felt himself opening up more than he would have otherwise.

 

The dinner that night and the couple days that followed were memories that Victor would treasure for the rest of his days. Reconnecting with Yurio and hearing about everything that he’d done and experienced, and the dreams he had yet to realize was food for Victor’s soul. And seeing the man he had become made him shine with pride.

 

Yurio was, despite his prickly nature, a good person with a moral compass that pointed the right way and empathy for others less fortunate.

 

It was also good to connect with Chris again, although at the same time it made Victor realize how much he himself had changed. He wasn’t the Living Legend anymore. He wasn’t the eccentric millionaire who lived in a castle with too much money to burn and staff to take care of what he was too lazy to do himself.

 

No… he was now a house husband. His life revolved around Yuuri and their life in the smaller town they settled in. His life also revolved around his in-laws who lived in the next town over and Yuuri’s godchildren and close friends.

 

Gone was the glamour and glitz of his old life.

 

Instead, he had an iPad and Pinterest, meals to plan, children’s movies to watch, and an Onsen to help maintain when his father-in-law called for help.

 

And he _loved_ it.

 

He loved it all, even having to deal with some of the skeevy things they found in the onsen baths when they drained them.

 

Because all of it was _real_. It all meant something. Everything he did now contributed to a part of Yuuri’s family. Anything he did for them made their lives just that much easier. And the love they gave him in return was _priceless_. He had finally found his true family.

 

That didn’t mean that he gave up collecting art entirely (though it sucked to be limited to buying things through legal means). And he still enjoyed some of his old vices… but he had settled into what was essentially a middle class life. Discretion meant Victor couldn’t flaunt his wealth, and that was ok.

 

Instead of the wealth he’d had, he found the thing worth the most in his life was Yuuri’s happiness - and _that_ he was more than glad to cultivate.

 

~~~~~~

 

Less then a week later they were back at home and in spite of the slight chill in the air they were standing outside in their tiny back yard while the dogs played. It was getting late, and both Yuuri and Victor were happy to let the pups tire themselves out if it meant they got to sleep in a bit the next morning.

 

“So? It’s been a rough month for you in some ways. How are you doing? And tell me honestly, Vitya.”

 

Victor let out a sigh, leaning back in Yuuri’s arms and letting him support some of his weight. Despite how much he had enjoyed everything during their trip to Saitama, it was good to be home.

 

“I think… I think I’m finally ready to really leave the past in the past.”

 

“Hmmmm…” Yuuri responded as he nuzzled the sensitive skin behind Victor’s ear that never ceased to drive him crazy. “Go on.”

 

“Well, you know that I haven’t really worried about my previous ‘career’ in a while,” Victor started. “I mean after that incident in Montreal Leo and I talked a lot on the way to Ottawa. I think he was just trying to keep me lucid since they were a little worried about my concussion - but whatever the case, we got to talking. You know, of course, you must know that it was his family that I stole the Egg from. …the first time we met.”

 

He felt Yuuri nod in response, but his husband stayed silent, letting Victor speak when he was ready.

 

“Well, when he first introduced himself I was sure that I was done for. I was so sure that he’d want some sort of revenge or retribution. I had just about given up, even though I was so close to getting out of that life, so close to escaping to the life we have now…”

 

Victor paused again, his memory of that time still vivid despite everything else being fuzzy from his head injury.

 

“But Leo - Leo didn’t _care_. He didn’t see me as being evil or some sort of bad guy. He - well, he trusted your judgement of me, and he treated me with the same care that he’d treat any victim he was rescuing. When I asked why, well he said he figured that anyone who could win your heart just couldn’t be a bad person. He didn’t really care much about the Egg. Not only did he accept my explanation that it had been stolen originally, but he was all ‘no harm, no foul’. I hate to say it, but I had to Google that. I could figure out what chickens had to do with anything. English is _dumb_.”

 

Yuuri huffed a laugh. “That sounds like something Leo would say, and yes, English IS dumb. …y u have to remember, Vitya, at Interpol we come across a lot of dirty secrets. Leo knows that things aren’t black and white and that not all people who commit crimes are the bad guys.”

 

Victor nodded. “I thought a lot on our conversation, especially in those early days when you were negotiating with the Japanese government for my clemency. And… it was during that time I think I came to accept that part of my past and move on.”

 

“But not your family,” Yuuri stated, knowing as always what was on Victor’s mind.

 

“No… not my family. I’ve never been able to forgive… I’ve never had an opportunity for closure I guess.” Victor looked up then, gazing at the stars until they became blurry from the tears forming in his eyes.

 

“But now - now I finally have that closure. I can’t thank you enough for both Mila and Yurio. Meeting Mila, and having both her apology and acceptance… well, it meant more to me that I realized at the time. To know that at least one person recognized that they were wrong. _One person_ in that family who cared about me enough to try and find me and who looked after me… it made me accept what happened and finally really accept that it was not my fault. I had always thought that there was something I could have done to prevent it. That it was something that I had done that had doomed Yurio to a life on the streets and without family. Everything I did - every single day - was to make it up to Yurio. To try and make up for some mistake that I must have made that put Yurio in that position.”

 

Yuuri’s arms tightened around him, not enough to be oppressive, but enough to let Victor know that he was there and that everything was ok.

 

“I know that’s not true. I mean, on an intellectual level I always knew that, but now, I can say I know it in my heart too. Thanks to Mila, for the first time in my life I feel free from them, and free from the guilt… all the guilt.”

 

“And now seeing Yurio, and the man he’s become… I have no words to describe how happy I am. It’s like everything was worth it, finally. All my hopes for Yurio have come true. All my worries, all the work I put in was worth it all. Seeing how happy, how healthy he is… seeing him finally able to pursue his dreams and walk through life without having to worry about his criminal brother… it’s more than I ever dared hope for. I think - I think - I finally -” Victor paused, struggling for words.

 

“You finally fulfilled your responsibility.”

 

“Yes!”

 

Yuuri chuckled softly. “I’m sure you’ll always worry about him a bit - I mean he’s family after all. But now, I hope you can see he is fine, and he will be fine, and he has people that can take care of him if needed. You’ll always be his brother, and you’ll always be the one who got him to where he is - but now he can take care of himself. You can relax, Vitya, and let him find his own way.”

 

Victor considered what Yuuri had said. And what he hadn’t. And the truth behind both. Victor had been the only real parental figure that Yurio had known. He’d been Yurio’s everything through both lean times and their ridiculous lifestyle at the castle (Victor now admitted to himself he may have gone a teensy bit overboard once he finally had the money to do so). While in some ways not having to take care of Yurio had been a lessening of the burden of guilt Victor had placed on himself, at the same time taking care of Yurio had been his sole purpose for most of his life. And he had to admit, without that purpose he had been at a bit of a loss the last few years. Without having seen Yurio, he didn’t feel like his job was done, and he didn’t know how to move on from that.

 

But now, maybe he could. He’d reassured himself Yurio was ok, was well taken care of and was a perfectly functioning adult. This could be the start of a new chapter, and maybe it was time for him to do something for himself, and for _him_ to find his own way in life without the burdens he’d carried for so long.

 

“You know… I was thinking I might start writing. Under a pseudonym of course, but I’d love to put some of my knowledge to use and write about treasures… both lost and found. And travel! Maybe a guidebook? Self guided tours through locations both real and legend where treasure were said to have been stolen or missing treasures are rumoured to be hidden. What do you think, Yuuri? It could be fun…”

 

“I think it’s a great idea for you to try and reach your _own_ goals for once, Vitya. You know I’ll support you however I can.”

 

“I just thought… you’re right, Yuuri. Yurio is ok. I don’t need to live my life for him anymore. And that doesn’t take away from anything I’ve done for him, and it doesn’t take away from how much I love him. It’s - well, it’s ok to do something for me now.”

 

“I love you, Vitya, and I’m so proud of you,” Yuuri whispered. “You are an incredible man. You may have led an unconventional life, but you are so selfless, and have so much love to give. Every day that passes I love you more and more. Thank you for trusting me with your heart.”

 

Victor turned to look at the beautiful, amazing man he had pledged his life to. “Thank you for being the inspiration I needed to be myself again. I was so lost I didn’t even know it, and you helped me find a way out. It’s still not easy some days, but having you by my side helps me stay far from the dark places my mind used to go.”

 

“Victor, my love, I will always stay close to you and never leave. I will be your light in the darkness if you will be mine.”

 

“Always, Yuuri, always.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it’s done!!! Took me long enough, lol. Thanks for sticking it through to the end! I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> The boys, of course, named their pups after their favourite missing treasures - for Yuuri the one he wanted most to bring back into the public domain, and for Victor the one he wanted most to acquire.
> 
> Poppy:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poppy_Flowers
> 
> Florentine:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Florentine_Diamond
> 
> Ryokan he meets Yurio at - the Miyamoto Residence:  
> https://matcha-jp.com/en/2149


End file.
